Secrets
by The Original Hansenette
Summary: Woo! First Big Time Rush story! Logan collaspes during practice. No big deal, right? Wrong. Something a lot more sinster is going on...  Rated T for now but might go up to M. All depends on how evil I'm feeling. Please review! :D
1. Chapter 1: Hiding

**Okey Dokey articokey. Hey! I'm LittleMissOops or Elli. First time in BTR fanfictiony palcey so be nice! And remember children, flames will be used to make flame grilled burgers for all my nice reviewers if I get any you won't get a burger, so nanananana. I'm Scottish so if any of the phrases or words I use make NO sense to you, Pm me and I will explain! Really. I'm not that scary. Just a bit...psychotic. SOMETIMES! I promise the science explosion was not my idea! Anyway. Enjoys. **

-  
Hit the Floor  
-

"ARGGGHHH! That. Was. Amazing...ly AWFUL! Dogs! Five hours of harmonies. NOW!"  
Gustavo was having a...moment. James looked pained. Harmonies just pissed him off after four hours. Kendall looked murderous for a change. He and Jo had planned to go out to the ice rink to teach her to skate but that was out of the question. As if Gustavo was going to let him go early especially in _this_ mood. Carlos looked...rather out of it. He had fallen over...without his helmet. Owies. Logan just looked pale. Paler than even he can look. His dark eyes looked sunk into his sickly looking face. He trudged into the booth after the other three although a lot slower. Kendall looked back at his short best friend .  
"You OK, Logie?" His friend wanted to become a doctor...doesn't mean he always realized when he needed help or was ill. Logan nodded and stumbled to the side. "Woah...dude, you're NOT OK. Tell Gustavo." Logan may be ill but his "WTF" stare still packs a punch. "Ok, maybe not Gustavo but someone."  
"No. I'm good." Logan choked out, his voice freezing and wheezing painfully. Kendall winced at his voice and pulled his little friend into a hug.  
"Tell Kelly you're ill, you idiot, or I will." Logan brushed off this comment and carried on into the booth.

"_Any kinda guy you want girl..._***c**_**ough cough***_"  
"STOP! Logan. What is up with you?"  
"Hey Logie?"  
"Dude, you're looking very pale..."  
"Gustavo, I don't think he's feeling well..."  
"Logan..? LOGAN!"

All this just swirled round Logan's head like water going down the drain, nothing sticking. Then the world went a little lopsided. Then very lopsided. Logan had a fleeting thought of _"I wish Kelly hadn't taken the pillows out of here"_ before he smacked into the plush red carpet.

Logan just hit the floor in a dead faint. James, Kendall and Carlos were at his side as quickly as they could go. Logan looked awful. Paler than possible, his skin looked translucent, his veins standing out like blue silver.  
"Dogs. Get him home. Now." Gustavo's voice rang out in the booth as the boys picked up their shorter band mate and cushioned his head. Logan was the doctor to be but the boys didn't make it through their entire career in ice hockey without learning a little bit of first aid. Concussion was very, very likely. If a double concussion existed that would be extra bad so the boys tried hard not to drop the youngest band member. Logan may be the only one with his learner's permit but the only reason was that Carlos' parents wouldn't let him near anything big and possibly lethal for obvious reasons, Kendall found lessons ate into his hockey practices and promptly dropped lessons for the time being and James just found the instructor a utter arse. Girls can apply makeup and drive, why couldn't he brush his hair? Logan's eyes fluttered open and he suddenly felt the odd sensation of being...lifted?  
"Uhh...what's going on?" He asked slowly. Carlos let out a squeak and dropped Logan's feet.  
"See, that was why we wouldn't let you lift his head." James smirked at the blushing Latino as he adjusted his helmet. Kendall silently lifted Logan and lay him down on the couch in Gustavo's office as James made a grab for Carlos' helmet (No idea why. This was James and Carlos we are talking about. I wouldn't ask questions. They had had ice cream before getting to Rouque Records, sugar must just be hitting their systems.). Logan tried to push himself up to a sitting position but multiple people pushed him back down.  
"Logan. Lie down." Kendall commanded as Kelly grabbed some water.  
"Here. Drink this." The cool cup was placed in his clammy hand and he swallowed most of the water in one gulp. Still he felt too hot and tried to get up again.  
"Seriously dog, lie down. I don't want puke all over my studio." Gustavo shouted in his normal way.  
"That's his way of saying he's worried. Now Logan, why didn't you say you felt ill?" Kelly demanded as she placed her hands on her hips and gave Logan THE look. The look that everyone in the studio was giving him. The "what the actual fuck were you thinking hiding this?" look. The one Mama Knight gave him when he had that vomiting bug or when his teacher saw the thick deep purple bruises his father gave him across his forearm when he was 8. Oh crud. Logan had completely forgotten about Mrs Knight. Dude, he was so dead he might as well start prepping his funeral hymns. Logan was shaken (honestly) to the present when Carlos shook his shoulders. His tired eyelids shot open and closed like Katie's Baby Annabelle doll when James started "teaching" it to do backflips.  
"Caarols. Lemme goo... M'tired..." Logan groaned as he tried to get comfy on the plush sofa.  
"Woah. No cookie. Logan, no sleeping. You know the rules. If you go to sleep with a concussion that means you might not wake up and when that happens we can use any means possible to keep you awake. You remember? Come on buddy, up and atta'em." Kendall rushed quickly, patting Logan's cheek quickly, panicking at the lack of response. Logan moaned and tried to slap his hand away.  
"Logie...talk to us. I'll get Camille to come and keep you awake. She can and will. She can also slap you a lot harder than I can." James coaxed and was glad when Logan's eyes fluttered open and stayed open.  
"No. No Camille or Katie or Mrs Knight, kay? I'll be fine. I'm just dehydrated." Logan pushed himself up and once again was pushed back down.  
"Logan, you need help and no amount of saying "no" is going to change our minds. Besides, you didn't answer Kelly's question." Carlos added. "Why didn't you say you felt ill?"  
"It didn't matter. We had to sing and I would just keep everyone back. Even more than usual..." Logan trailed off looking out of the third story window.  
"Logan Mitchell. You are our BEST friend. You will NEVER hold us back. If you hadn't driven us to the audition, we wouldn't be here. If you weren't calm in dangerous situations, then Carlos, Kendall and me would be very very very dead right now." James said seriously, slightly worried by his friends demeanour. Logan had an annoying self confidence issue and when he guilt tripped, he was amazingly good and accurate at it. No wonder Logan was so good at deconstructing poems in English, he spent a ton of his time deconstructing thoughts and what other people had said, usually not the nice things either. Logan snapped out of his thoughts and gave James an almost pitiful look and he pushed himself into a sitting position despite the murmured arguments coming from the three other boys and Kelly. Gustavo had left the room, silently, going to phone Mrs Knight since he knew that Logan may be smart but when he was sick or hurt in anyway, he could be incredibly stupidly stubborn.  
"Guys, Gustavo said I couldn't sing or dance, when Wayne Wayne was around everyone was betting on **me** being the one who got kicked out and the only thing I ever do that's useful is do homework or make sure people don't die in your plans. I'm not a people person or a good performer and I'm definitely not cut out for LA. Everyone is so talented here and...and..." Logan slid slowly from his sitting position and went an even paler white. His eyelids shuddered as his body shook from his body's loss of heat.  
"Logan? Logie, wake up. Come on!" Kendall panicked as Logan's eyes slid slowly to a close and his body relaxed. Logan was starting to go to sleep. Carlos pushed Kendall out the way and shook Logan's shoulders and his head lolled limply. James grabbed a glass of water from the cooler and sloshed it over Logan's face. Logan pushed himself upright and gasped quickly.  
"What the hell?" Logan gasped, pushing his hair back and tried to dry his eyes of the icy cold water.  
"You fell asleep. We told you the rules. You sleep, we wake you up in **any** way possible. Water works, I guess." James shrugged and Carlos hugged the small pale boy.  
"You weren't waking...it was scary. Logie, don't do that again." Carlos begged, clinging to Logan. "And don't promise! Cos promises always get broken."  
"Not always, Carlos. I'll try to stay awake. I just need some water and I'll be fine. In a few hours, I'll be fine again. OK?" No one else shared his medical diagnosis. He was purposely avoiding the hospital. But why.  
"Logan, you're not fine and you are going to the doctors. Come on." Kendall said, grabbing Logan's arm. Logan winced and everyone stared. Kendall slowly and gently pushed up Logan's sleeve, revealing ten dark bruises. Resembling fingers. Someone had threatened Logan.  
"Who?" That's all Kendall asked but he had a sneaking suspicion that he knew who.  
"Kendall, guys, I've been meaning to tell you. My dad was released from jail. He wanted to see me again." Logan whispered rubbing the purple bruises as the room was silent. There was a reason Mr Mitchell was in jail to begin with and that wasn't a pretty 10 year spanning story.


	2. Chapter 2: Back Story

-  
Secrets Always Come Out  
-

Logan sat in the studio in silence. The three boys looked a bizarre mixture of anger and utter terror. Logan pulled down his sleeve and looked at everyone's faces. Kelly's eyes were littered with tears of pity and shock and Gustavo had turned his head away but his shock was apparent. Then it was the three other boys; Carlos, James and Kendall. Carlos looked like he was going to cry. James looked so damn angry, all he wanted to do was find his friend's father and tear him into teeny tiny pieces and Kendall just looked...betrayed. Logan, his Logan, wouldn't tell him when something was wrong. He was Logan's protector just like James and Carlos. Even when the two youngest boys argued that they were old enough to look after themselves, it didn't stop James or Kendall from being the "older, more protective brothers". They both felt like it was their job. The younger boys eventually resigned to the fact that they were constantly going to be babied by their best friends.  
"What...happened, Logie. Please, please, tell us." Kendall pleaded with the small brunette. Logan looked over at Kelly and Gustavo. Kelly nodded and escorted Gustavo out of the room and left with only a pitying glance at Logan.

"_Damn. Why does it have to rain now?" Logan wondered out loud. He lifted his thin hood to cover his damp hair and shrugged his heavy school bag back up higher onto his shoulder. Logan had stayed behind at school for an after-school club and had only just finished up now. He turned to his watch. Six o'clock. Everyone else would be at home, playing a video game or out at the rink. As if they would do their homework. The rain peppered his hood as he turned his head to look both ways before crossing the road. The headlights shone and sparkled in the puddles and he was reminded of his little sister. She always had a camera on her and constantly took pictures of what she called "ordinary magic". Logan probably should phone her and his foster parents when he got home. A tight grip wrapped itself around his left arm.  
"Hey! What the he..." Logan turned and froze. A tall man with piercing ice blue eyes and short black hair. He grinned and Logan's blood ran cold. He knew that smile. Whenever he saw that smile as a child, he had an instant reaction to hide.  
"Hey boy. You miss me? Cos I've not missed you. Missed your frightened little face though." His father's smile darkened and his grip tightened as he raised Logan's arm back, clicking it out of its normal place but not far enough to actually pop it out the socket. Logan gasped as his arm was forced backwards. He was pushed down to his knees and his head was pulled backwards to face his father. He was tempted to scream for help but that usually angered his father. Logan started squirming to get away from his father but as soon as he felt the cool blade against his throat he froze. The blade was instantly withdrawn and then he felt a rush of pain in his left side. A scream broke out from his lungs then his father chuckled.  
"I've got a more pressing appointment at the moment. I'll catch up with you later, little Logie. Just remember, you know my reasons. It's all your fault, sweetie. Just you remember that." His voice faded off as Logan lay gasping, applying pressure to his stab wound. He pulled away the wet, sticky clothing and was relieved to find the wound wasn't too deep. He could look after it himself. No one needed to know. Especially not his family. _

"Are you telling us...you got stabbed...and didn't tell us? What the fuck were you thinking, Logan? Is it clean? Are you keeping it wrapped up? Uhh...do you need...stitches? Anything?" Kendall asked, panicking at the thought of his best friend in any type of pain. Logan shook his head and rested his hand gently on his left side. His friends stared at him as he lifted his shirt up and showed them the, thankfully, clean and well wrapped wound.  
"It's fine, see? The reason I passed out was probably still dehydration, you know. The thing with my dad was nothing to do with me going down in the booth."  
"Still Logan. You should have told us all this earlier. You still don't look too good. What do you do to help get over a concussion?" All eyes settled on Logan once again. He was the doctor of the group after all.  
"Mmm... it seems pretty minor...how long was I out for?" Logan asked looking up at his friends again.  
"Not too long. About 5 minutes." Kendall said, watching Logan's face intently. If Logan knew something was wrong, his entire facial expression usually gave it away. It was actually very amusing watching Logan's face during a conversation. You could tell if he was holding something back or if he disagreed. Even Carlos found this an enjoyable pastime, making Logan make weird faces when talking about something random. Thankfully, Logan's face stayed quite neutral while he was making up his diagnosis apart from some concentrated looks.  
"I should be fine if I don't fall asleep too much but..."  
"But nothing. You are going to the hospital. Before you start bleeding from your eyes or something freaky." James said, standing up and grabbing his mobile phone from his pocket. Logan panicked and started trying to get up. Carlos and Kendall made a move for the sick boy but missed. Logan grabbed James' phone and hid it behind his back, face pale and legs shaking.  
"Logan! What the heck?" Kendall demanded as the shorter teen shook his head then grabbed the front of Gustavo's desk because the room would stop spinning.  
"Nah. No...no doctors. You...you...oh shit." Logan never swore. This better be something bad. Logan's hand went straight to his side and the others picked up on this. Despite Logan's black top, a darker sticky substance stained and covered the left side. Logan's hand came away red.  
"I must've split the scab and re-opened the wound. I can fix it. I'll just..."  
"NO. You will not fix it all by yourself. What you are going to do is go straight to the doctors, get this thing looked up and stitched up properly then I am going to take you home, young man. I might not be your mother but I am your guardian here in LA and if you hide something like this away from me again so help me god. Do I make myself clear, Logan Mitchell?" Logan froze, his back (thankfully) facing the very irate Mrs Caitlin Knight. He whispered in Kendall's direction,  
"Calling your mum? Kendall, that's low. You have just forced me into at least a week's worth of babying. As if I don't get enough from you lot." Kendall smiled and shrugged his shoulders.  
"What can I say, Logie?I know how you get when _you're_ the patient. I know you love me really, don't cha'?." Kendall hugged the smaller boy then lifted him easily into his arms bridal style.  
"Whoawhoawhoawhoa. Kendall Knight. Put me down. Right now. I have two legs and I can walk normally. Just because I have a superficial cut doesn't mean that I can't walk. Kendall, listen to me!" Kendall ignored all of Logan's protests and practically skipped out of the room. James and Carlos just laughed at Logan's whining and Mrs Knight's obvious annoyance at someone hiding something from her for so long. Mrs Knight was a regular gossip and hated being kept out of the loop. Despite the funny goings on, the three boys had the heavy topic of Logan's father on their minds. When Logan was younger, he thought nothing of his father hurting him. It started when he was so little, it seemed the norm. When he first met Carlos' father, he was absolutely terrified because he, Carlos, Kendall and James had brought a dirty football in the house and caused a mess. Mr Garcia noticed the panic when he asked them about the mess and his relief and confusion when Carlos just promised to tidy it up later. That was the end of it. He had sat Logan down and asked him some questions in his friendly police officer voice. He got the impression that Logan was scared of his father. He often brought is fact up with his mother but she had always brushed it off. He himself had never met Logan's father but had often met with his mother in the park when they set up play dates for the four boys. Logan, personality wise, took after his mother. She was gentle and kind although she had a lingering depression problem that eventually caused her death. Although if you looked at Logan compared to his mother, the differences were huge. Logan had brown eyes, dark, dark hair and was relatively short for his age. His mother, Cassandra, had the same brown eyes, long blonde hair and passed at a height of 6"3. Logan adored his mother, it was apparent whenever something happened that bothered him he would go straight to her. After she died, James, Kendall and Carlos became his confidents. When Logan was 10, the police force eventually caught on to Logan's father and he was arrested. Logan and his little sister, Noelle (she had been born on Christmas Eve and Cassandra thought it would be a fitting name), were taken into care and were found foster parents in the form of Mr and Mrs Cameron. They never had children and doted on the two youngsters. A few months later, Logan's father's trial was held. The prosecution had asked if Logan wanted to say anything at all because since his mother died, he was the only witness. He wasn't forced into testifying but he was remarkably stubborn that he wanted to go but Noelle shouldn't go because she had developed minor anxiety issues and these were triggered by her father's presence. On the day, Logan stood in court and was asked simple questions.  
"Did your father ever hurt you? In anyway?" Logan nodded quickly and let out an unconscious squeak when he noticed his father's hand ball up into fist.  
"When did this start?" The defence attorney asked quietly, asking himself what the point there was in even trying to defend this man. The evidence was so clear and the children were so innocent in all this that he knew they wouldn't lie. If this man walked free, it would be preying on his mind for the rest of his life.  
"Ever since I can remember. Whenever Dad got angry...well..." Logan trailed off. He swallowed and looked up at the attorney and the look of sheer begging broke everyone's heart in the jury. Mrs Knight, Mr Garcia, the Diamonds and the Camerons were all in the courthouse. Mrs Garcia was watching Kendall, James, Carlos and Noelle at her own house.  
"I got hurt." Logan's father exploded and shot over to Logan and grabbed him. He turned to see many gun barrels staring him down, one of which belonged to Mr Garcia who was the police officer for this case. Logan looked at his father with wide eyes as his small hands tried to pry the man's hands from his throat. The man laughed.  
"I'm going down anyway..." Then he squeezed Logan's throat harder and laughed as the boy's face paled and he worked to free himself faster. He was currently failing. Mrs Cameron was weeping openly as her son was being held hostage by a madman. Mrs Knight was on her feet, ready to run. Where to, she had no idea, but run, nonetheless. The Diamonds had gone to the Garcia's house earlier to help Mrs Garcia with the other children. The entire courtroom went to the dogs after Logan slowly closed his eyes and his body hung limp. Screams and cries came from every angle, a single Tazer shot out and hit Mr Mitchell square on the back and Logan was instantly surrounded by people, the four most frantic being Mr Garcia, Mrs Knight and the Camerons. Mr Garcia and Mrs Knight both felt as if Logan was their own son and if anything harmed him after the discovery of what his childhood was like, the Knights, Garcias, Diamonds and Camerons would all swarm and usually attack. In school, it was Kendall, Carlos and James while outside school, with the big grown-up problems, the adults took over. Now, what were they going to do? This was a very very big problem. No amount of reassurance or promise of adult intervention could ever ward this massive problem away until it was resolved. Once and for all. Logan seemed intent on getting away from his best friend in any way possible including "Jo will be jealous of me" and "Come on, Kendall! Camille is going to murder me if she finds me in hospital. I'm surprised she doesn't already know. She's like my own personal stalker half the time". Yet, Kendall ignored his friends pleas and set him down gently in his mother's rental car. He motioned to get the seatbelt for Logan but Logan just glared menacingly. "I'm not an invalid. I can still do things from myself." He snatched up the belt and tried to place it in the seatbelt clip. And failed. Multiple times. Kendall just stood at the door arms crossed as Logan struggled with the mediocre task that he couldn't complete because his hands shook like they always did under pressure. James and Carlos were already in the car, both in the back seat beside Logan and Mrs Knight had stopped glaring and was looking sympathetically at the boy that, 6 years ago she was positive was dead. So much had changed but still Logan had a nervous feel about him like the world was out to get him which wasn't exactly far from the truth as the world was a distinct talent of being a total grade A arsehole to everyone. Logan eventually gave up and turned to face the front, crossed his arms and let Kendall fasten his seatbelt like he was a child.  
"Thanks." Logan grumbled. He was never this tetchy so the pain must have been getting to him.  
"You're welcome, Logan. Needing help isn't a bad thing you know." Kendall answered, climbing into the front seat. Logan just nodded and stared out the window as Mrs Knight let out the clutch of the car far too quickly and hit the accelerator as the boys tried to pinpoint the exact location of their stomachs which at this point felt they had left outside Gustavo's studio. Seriously, who was the imbecile that gave Mrs Knight her licence? It wasn't too uncommon for this to occur to the boys as Mrs Knight probably broke most of the Highway Code in 30 seconds flat. It could have been a blessing in disguise that they were already heading to the hospital.

Tada! That's the second chapter done! If you can, please review! Because reviews are hugs and I love hugs! :D  
And as I wrote in Modern Studies... Any Questions? No? Good. Seeya later.


	3. Chapter 3: Waiting

**Goooooddd morning, people of Fanfiction! I just want to say...Thankyouthankyouthankyou for your lovely reviews! XXX hugs and cookies for you all! Shout out to all my lovely reviewer: Logan Henderson Is Mine (although I beg to differ. Logan Henderson belongs to me. And do you want to fight with me over Logan? I think not!), mandy124, a person-a paper-a promise, xBleepblapbloopx and ! You guys are awesome! **

Waiting

The four boys stumbled out of the car, thanking god that the hospital wasn't too far away. Carlos hugged the pavement, gaining some very odd looks from passers-by. James kissed the ground and mouthed the words "Sweet Merciful Jesus" while clasping his hands. Kendall hadn't moved out his seat and still had his hands on the dashboard, gripping on for dear life. Logan was also still in the car, asking Mrs Knight if he could drive on the way back just as "experience". Mrs Knight was bewildered by the boy's...odd reactions.  
"By the way, mum. Who was the guy that gave you your licence?" Just for further reference. They needed a name if they planned to murder the idiot.  
"A man called Mr Johnstone. Nice man. He retired right after giving me the test though. Shame."  
"I wonder why..." James mouthed at Logan causing him to laugh loudly but then doubled over as the cut at his side stung. James reached over from where he sat beside the open car door and unhooked Logan's seatbelt. The pressure was slightly relieved as Logan smiled weakly at James.  
"We better go inside. Don't want to get home too late. I'll just go park." Logan and Kendall both gave each other a desperate glance then launched themselves out of the car as quickly as possible. Mrs Knight looked over at the four boys that now stood on the pavement trying to look all innocent.  
"We'll just...you know...uhhh..." Carlos rambled looking to his left for help.  
"Get Logan into the hospital now cos..." James carried on.  
"He might get worse...quickly." Kendall finished giving his mother a pleading look.  
"Yeah. You know because I could...die. So yeah. Seeya!" Logan panicked and then took off to towards the entrance. The other three looked at the short boy and then ran over when their best friend slipped down to the ground.  
"Logan! Come here, I got ya'." Carlos gathered Logan up in his arms.  
"M'not a bloody child, Carlos. I can walk." Logan moaned as he clutched his left side.  
"Oh yeah. It really looks that way. Come on. Inside the hospital now." Kendall helped Carlos pick up the prone boy as James opened the door.

Waiting. Everyone hated waiting. It was as if the world was dangling a piece of chocolate on a wire and saying "you can't have it until...". It was so irritating. To Carlos Garcia, waiting was the bane of his existence. Birthdays, Christmas, holidays, everything always seemed so far away. Waiting was one of the most hated words ever. "Just wait two minutes Carlos," or "We have to wait for the bus.". Waiting was the most annoying thing ever. So when the receptionist told them to follow the signs for the A & E and Outpatient Clinic and not a waiting room, Carlos was over the moon until he actually there. Past the cafeteria (which smelt so good, Carlos swore his stomach tried to eat its self) and down a wide hall, a automatic door stood with the sign and arrow they were looking for. Skipping through the door and looking round the corner, Carlos groaned. Chairs, a table, kiddie toys and health magazines. It was a dreaded **waiting** room. The most boring room ever. There wasn't even anyone else in there to talk to. Carlos sat beside the toys and picked up a toy dinosaur and sat it on his lap.  
"Rawr." He said quietly, earning a cautious grin from Logan. Logan was sat beside him on the left, grabbing a magazine on something...medical. Kendall sat beside Logan and sat poker straight in the chair, constantly looking around for a doctor or someone. It didn't matter who, someone. James didn't sit. When James was nervous he couldn't sit. He paced the length of the room, muttering to himself. Mrs Knight walked through the door, miraculously unharmed, and walked over to theboys. She sat beside Kendall and wrapped him in a one armed hug and mouthed "are you OK" to him. Kendall smiled and nodded to his mother. Carlos checked his watch. 4:30. Yeah, he so hated waiting.

"Mitchell, Logan Mitchell?" A nurse with long brown hair scooped up into a bobble and wearing blue-green scrubs called. Logan got up as did the other three.  
"Oh. I'm sorry but one person can go with the patient. I know the rules are stupid but if I don't follow them..." The nurse shrugged. "I could lose my job." The boys turned to look at each other. Who would go with Logan. Mrs Knight stood up and turned to the boys.  
"I'll go. I am his guardian." The boys couldn't argue with that logic and James, Carlos and Kendall went back to the waiting room. Logan smiled softly at Mrs Knight, exhaled slowly and turned into the small room. The doctor, a dark haired man with round glasses turned away from the sink where he was washing his hands and smiled.  
"Why don't you take a seat...?" The doctor looked over his shoulder at the file. "Mr Mitchell?" Logan flinched at the mention of what everyone that knew his father had called him.  
"Just Logan, sir." The doctor smiled again.  
"Hello then, Just Logan. My name is Doctor Andrews, I hear you've had an accident involving a sharp point object." Logan ducked his head and nodded. Mrs Knight sat down at the other side of the room, letting the doctor have as much room as he needed. Dr Andrews picked up a thin needle, some black stitching thread and a bottle of antiseptic. And a shot.  
"This should numb you up..." Logan looked at the needle with extreme uneasiness. Once, when he was 7, Logan's father had grabbed a packet of sewing needles and stabbed Logan with them and ever since Logan avoided non-vital injections and needles like the plague. The doctor picked up on this and smiled softly.  
"Yeah, I'm not too partial to needles either." He smiled as he jabbed Logan's skin softly and the thick liquid in the syringe flowed into his side. Logan's chest felt so heavy afterwards and was so preoccupied with the feeling, he didn't see or feel Doctor Andrews apply the antiseptic rub on his wound and begin to stitch it up.  
" How can you be scared of needles? You're a doctor." Logan asked, trying to stay as still as possible. No one wanted to go through all this again.  
"I usually work in a lab. But I can still to the manual work too so don't worry." He smiled as he finished stitching up the last of the wound.  
"Immunologist?" Logan guessed. He had researched the different types of specialities and still hadn't decided.  
"You got it. You do a report on this in school or something? Not many kids your age are interested in doctors. They just expect you to fix their messes." Doctor Andrews just shook his head gently as he re-wrapped Logan's chest.  
"No. I want to be a doctor when I'm older. Which speciality, I haven't chosen yet but I guess I still got time to decide." Logan said, watching the man finish with his procedure.  
"Too right. Take my advice and don't become a neurologist. I tried it for 2 weeks in college. Didn't understand a second of it but you might be a bit brighter than I was. Now. You are going to need an alphabet test." Dr Andrews said, straightening up and putting away the rest of the thread.  
"Alphabet test?" Logan stretched his side and placed his hand behind his head. Mrs Knight looked up from the magazine she had pulled out of her handbag (somehow. The thing was tiny) and gave him a slightly concerned look. He might be feeling better but it was still disconcerting to see one of "her boys" so ghostly pale. Although with the people she was measuring him against, it wasn't very fair. The Latino, the tanning addict and the naturally tan blonde against the uber super duper pale brunette? Yeah, not very fair.  
"CAT scan, MRI, uhh...ZYX?" Dr Andrews rambled on, smiling as he disposed of the needle and cotton he had used to apply the antiseptic.  
"ZYX isn't a test. It's the last 3 letters in the alphabet." Logan said, crossing is arms mockingly.  
"Ahh yes, but that was test of your memory ergo, a memory test. See what I did there? Now, hand this slip of paper," the doctor scribbled on a small piece of blue tinged paper and handed it to Mrs Knight. "To the reception and they should be able to refer you to the proper department. Goodbye, Logan. You too, ma'am." The two closed the door gently behind them and made their way slowly back to the waiting area. Kendall was staring at the mural on the wall and Carlos and James were engaged in a full on dinosaur war of doom. Complete with sound effects. Logan loved his friends like brother but honestly? When he wasn't around, the group seemed to get just a tiny bit more...stupid is a strong word; odd is the one we'll use. It was obviously no point in even trying to step in between Carlos and James until there was a victor of the full on dinosaur war of doom so Logan and Mrs Knight sat beside Kendall.  
"Hey Kendall. What you looking at?" Logan turned to look at whatever Kendall was looking at and caught his smile when he spoke.  
"Hey Logie. Look, on one side of the hospital there's all the sick people but you can match it up to the people who are healthy on the other side. See?" Kendall explained, pointing at the brightly coloured mural. The hospital must have asked a local school to do for them because the crudely drawn signatures at the bottom were ones of people the boys knew vaguely from the Palmwoods. You could, indeed, match up the sick people with the healthy people on the other side. Most of them had chicken pox it seemed with the occasional broken leg here and there.  
"I feel like a minority. There's plenty of people like you though."" Logan laughed, leaning over to talk to Kendall whilst trying not to interrupt the plastic carnage going on on the floor. The last time someone broke up a battle between Carlos and James...not pretty. It was true; there were only blondes and brunettes on the mural. Red heads and people with black hair seemed impossible for 6 year olds to comprehend. A victory yell broke the relative silence in the waiting area as James's diplodocus reigned supreme over Carlos' beaten raptor. The older boy leapt up and did a lap of honour around the room.  
"Once again, the herbivore reigns supreme over the lowly, weak meat eater. Better luck next time, Carlitos!" James laughed, launching himself down beside Logan. "Oh. Hey Logie. You better now?" Logan nodded while smiling in amusement.  
"What do you mean once again? Haven't you seen the Discovery Channel? Little veggy dinosaur just eating its green like a good little dinosaur then BAM! A massive T-Rex comes and eats him. Herbivores die and are eaten, carnivores live forever." Carlos said, jabbing his finger at the taller brunette.  
"Whatever you say, Carlos..." James muttered. Mrs Knight shook her head and stood up. She placed her hands on her hips and gave them THE look.  
"Ahh crap. What did we do this time, Mum? Whatever it was, I'm sure we're all really sorry." Kendall grovelled, knowing that when he saw that look that either something bad had happened or that she was expecting something from them. More often than not, the boys had no clue what Mrs Knight wanted and had to resort to pleading for forgiveness for something that they didn't know they had done.  
"Logan? Reception?" She offered as bait. All eyes dropped on Logan as the genius recalled what Dr Andrews had said.  
"Oh! The blue bit of paper! I need a CAT scan apparently." Logan shrugged his shoulders and rose to his feet. The other three boys looked at each other quickly and caught up with Logan, Kendall falling in step beside him with James and Carlos behind so they didn't take up the entire corridor.  
"A CAT scan? What for?" James asked tripping over the backs of Logan's shoes. "Seriously dude, I swear your legs are too short for your age. You might what to see a doctor that does bones."  
"An orthopedician, James. Oh come on, James. You know I know all the "big" words." James just stared gormless at Logan who was looking over his shoulder at the tallest boy.  
"It's still really weird when you actually **use** them. Anyway, why do you need a CAT scan?"  
"Just to check there's no damage to my head. It wouldn't hurt or anything. It's just going to talk a picture of my head." Logan said, pushing the door to the reception open.  
"Like an X-Ray!" Carlos cried joyfully, ecstatic he had actually remembered something from the Health lecture they had had for English once.  
"Yes, Carlos. Like an X-Ray." Mrs Knight grinned, looking back at the boys. Her four piece jigsaw puzzle.

Kendall, the leader, he might seem very confident in himself but if he lost anyone, he always had farther to fall. She was so gratefully that the others could keep him from very falling that low.  
James, the talented, pretty boy as he called himself, was always the one who jumped into the fray if something went wrong, just in case it could be fixed.  
Carlos, the Energizer bunny on a cocktail of sugar and hyperness, always the one to pick up the pieces and set things right simply because being depressed just didn't suit him. Neither did boredom. Mrs Knight found that out a looong time ago.  
Then there was Logan. The sweet, funny, panic prone, genius who could always figure out what was wrong. Unfortunately, that also meant he could figure out what bad things _could_ happen. And when Logan got stuck on the _"what could happen?"_ train, he usually worked himself up so much, he could possibly explode. Thank goodness the boys were so good at defusing the Logan time bomb before it could set off. Imagining one without the other three was just...wrong. It was like Ben without Jerry's or fish with no chips or cookie with none of those deliciously melty bits in them with the white chocolate chunks...OK! No more food metaphors. Mrs Knight could feel her stomach growling for a good junk food fest. Not that there wasn't any in the flat, Kendall had a thing for M&Ms, Carlos ate most sweet things (except liquorice) and Logan and James were both chocoholics but she was on a diet lately and didn't really want to blow it. She fished out the bit of blue paper and handed it to the new receptionist (blonde hair and a bit chubby) who smiled a big "work" smile (a totally fake one naturally) and told them to follow the signs for Radiology and ask for Dr Walker. The boys ignored the fact that they had just walked past the Radiology and carried on to the department.  
"Oh ohh. Look, guys." A red sign blinked in front of them.

_Only patients are allowed past this point._

One annoying little sentence. Logan looked back apologetically at his three best friends and pushed open the heavy door, not enjoying the fact that he felt like he had left most of him outside with his friends.

"Logan, are you sure you can drive? Because I can if you..."  
"NO! I mean, no, Mrs Knight, I'm sure I'll be just fine. The doctors check my head and I'm fine. OK? Just...some _**quiet**_ would be nice." He glared pointedly into the rear view mirror at James, Kendall and Carlos who were LOUDLY arguing about who was the most awesome. It had all started when Carlos chose "awesome" to be his word for the day and branded everything as awesome. For example, cars are awesome, lights are awesome, dogs are awesome, cats are awesome, corndogs are AWESOMELY awesome, James is awesome, Carlos is awesome, Kendall is awesome, Logan is awesome, Mrs Knight is awesome and Carlos is awesome. Yes, he said Carlos was awesome twice. When asked why, he told his two (taller, stronger (just for the record)) friends that he was the most awesome. Of course being cooped up all day in a hospital did mean that the boys had a lot of energy and randomness to burn and so happened what would be named "The Awesome Incident" by Mrs Knight. Logan was sorely tempted to scream but they were already at the Palmwoods. And apparently, Mrs Knight had some rules to put down. Oh joy.


	4. Chapter 4: Cautious

-  
Cautious  
-

"OK. Number 1: Don't leave Logan on his own.  
Number 2: If you're not home after 8, I will take it that you're ill or incapacitated and call the police."  
"Mum, don't you think you're being a just a little..."  
"Kendall! No interrupting me! Any questions can wait. Unless they're from Carlos or James. Because they probably wouldn't remember the questions for very long. Anyway, back to the rules.  
Number 3: Logan. Next time something like this happens, tell me. Got it?  
Number 4: Logan isn't allowed to do anything strenuous for at least a week." This carried on for at least half an hour and there were at least 47 new rules, each more annoyingly mothering than the last. Mrs Knight stood with her hands on her hips and a determined glare on her face. Someone wasn't happy. The boys weren't actually too happy either. Kendall stood with his face poker straight and his face flinching after each new rule. Carlos was trying (and failing) to glare up at James who was balancing his arm on his head. HE wasn't that short! Was he? James was slouched (slouched! Just to send the irate Latino over the edge, he wasn't even standing at his full height) leaning on Carlos' head (earning Carlos some laughs and sniggers) and rolling his eyes at every new rule.  
"Don't you roll your eyes at me, James Diamond! You know why we need all these precautions!" Logan blushed a deep red at this.  
"I'm sorry, guys. I don't mean to ruin everything." Logan whispered, blushing and letting his head hang softly.  
"Oh Logan sweetie, you know that's not what I meant. Logan..." Mrs Knight had realised her mistake just a little too late. Logan had the worst habit of taking every single comment straight to heart. Every bully had chipped away at his self-confidence, every time his father screamed he was worthless, every time a teacher had told him, no matter how gently, that he was wrong, he felt like a failure. He was the smart one and he couldn't even do that right. Logan really needed to visit a shrink. Or get a pet. Pets are usually great moral boosters. But at the moment, Logan had none of these things. Unfortunately, Logan had gone back to his old method of dealing with things when they got just a little too much which was either; A) Fainting or B) Running away. He had prompted for B this time. Logan had turned and leapt up the swirly slide, his smaller frame a lot more able of getting around the curve of the slide than anyone else's. He then ran into his and Kendall's shared room and slammed the door. Well as hard as Logan could slam the door. The three boys stood in the room with Mrs Knight who sighed and left the room to go pick up Katie from the shopping centre. She had given her "sons" a sympathetic glance, grabbed her car keys and gone out the door. The boys silently looked up to where Logan probably was sitting upstairs and did a game of "rock, paper, scissors". James lost. The two other boys smiled sweetly (somehow James didn't think they meant it) and ran, kicking and screaming towards the TV. They turned on the Wii and lo and behold, Mario Cart flashed up on the screen. Very quickly, the noises of Yoshi, Luigi, engines and a bickering Kendall and Carlos filled most of the flat. James climbed inside the swirly slide and proceeded to climb up to the top.  
"Good luck, Jamez." Kendall shouted.  
"Cos, you're going to need it. Woo! Mushrooms!" Carlos chimed afterwards, laughing as he flew past Kendall who was caught between despair and utter annoyance. He NEVER lost. Unless he was racing Katie but that didn't count. Because he... let her win. Yeah, let's go with that.  
"I hate you both." James shot back from somewhere in the middle of the plastic slide.  
"Love you too, Jamesss! Take that, Yoshi!" Kendall shouted, mostly at the Wii.  
"NOOO! Not a blue shell! They bomb the person in front which is..." Carlos screamed, jumping up and down on the couch.  
"You! I win again!" Kendall mocked. "Because I'm soo awe..."  
"DON'T SAY IT!" Carlos warned, leaping to his feet.  
"So..." Kendall carried on heedless.  
"I'm warning you, Kendall Knight..." Carlos shouted, practically eyeball to eyeball with Kendall.  
"Me. I am more awesome than...you." Kendall finished in the voice he usually reserved for Gustavo and/or when he was being competitive.  
"That's it!" Carlos mauled Kendall and an all out anybody's game of wrestling began.  
"I may have dodged a bullet here." James mused as he smoothed his mussed up hair with his lucky comb while watching the carnage safely from the banister of the upstairs and carried down the hall to Logan and Kendall's room. Logan was naturally tidy. It was a well known fact that if you left a dish alone for at least 5 minutes then Logan will have stolen it and put it in the dishwasher. It was also very well known that if Logan was let loose in Carlos and James' room, he would firstly have a complete spaz attack over the mess then tidy it until he actually died. So it was certain that his room would be very clean. VERY clean. But still whenever James went near the room, he was always surprised about the distinctive smell of...clean. You know the clean smell. Not the hospital clean smell but the kind of smell you get after washing all your bed sheets. That clean smell. Kendall wasn't as OCD as Logan but he liked being able to find stuff quickly and easily so the room arrangements worked out quite well. James knocked on the soft blue door. No response.  
"Logie? You OK? Logan?" James asked tentatively. Logan had been known to explode at random intervals when he was mad. James was rewarded with "I'm not coming out."  
"Why not, Logie? No one's mad at you. I wouldn't even want to go tanning at eight o'clock anyway! There wouldn't be any sun! And if it keeps you safe then I don't care about the rules. You hear me?"  
No answer.  
"Come on, Logie. Talk to me. Please?" Again, no answer. James wasn't hurt by this because there were two reasons why Logan was ignoring him. 1 was that Logan didn't like talking while he was thinking sometimes and when he was angry, that was one of those times. And number two, again goes back to what his dad did to him. If Logan was quiet, the beatings weren't as bad. Logan knew that his friends would never hurt him but the deep rooted **fear** wouldn't let him answer his best friend's pleas. Logan had come to the conclusion quite a while ago that he was messed up and just a little bit nuts. But as was said in Alice in Wonderland, all the best people are just a little bit crazy. Great, he was quoting Alice in Wonderland now? Where were all those Californian psychologists when you needed them?  
"Loooogan? You're not coming out? I guess I'll just have to go in then." James stood up to his full height (meep) and started to open the door. He was just about to open in when a weight smacked into the door, a sound of something falling down against the door and a little "oof" stopped him.  
"Logan! Just let me open the goddamn DOOR!"  
"NO!" a squeaky voice answered. James gave the door a "WTF?" look as the phrase was repeated in a purposely deep voice.  
"O..K...then. You just...yeah...JUUUUST KIDDING!" James threw his full weight at the door and laughed to hear Logan skid along the floor with the force. James slowly opened the door and saw Logan on his back, holding a lamp and the books and stuff on the bedside table around him on the floor.  
"Do I want to know?" James asked, leaning on the door frame. Logan looked around himself.  
"I sincerely doubt you do. So why did you attack my poor defenceless door?" Logan asked getting to his feet and re-enforcing the guys thoughts about him having some sort of cleaning disorder by gathering the fallen objects up and replacing them on the bedside table.  
"Poor defenceless door, my ass. I have splitters now! Sharp spiky splitters!" James cried waving his hand in front of Logan's face. Logan just rolled his eyes and turned to his bedside table. He opened his drawer and rooted around before pulling out a pair of silver tweezers.  
"Dude, why do you have tweezers in your cupboard?" James asked, watching the light dance of the tweezers. Now, James wasn't scared of tweezers. Oh no. It was the slightly vengeful look in Logan's eyes that freaked him out. Despite the boys being the very best friends, they have their little tiffs and Logan and James had earlier fought over something stupid, neither of them remember now. But what they do remember is that James won. Or so he thought.  
"Because that door frame seems to be possessed by a sadistic ghost that enjoys hurting everyone except me. Kendall wouldn't open the door anymore. He has to come and ask me to. Now, sit down on the bed and let me get those "sharp spiky splitters" out of your hand." Logan said, imitating James voice when he said "sharp spiky splitters". James sat down, thrust out his palm and turn his head, hiding his eyes in a very overly dramatic manner. Logan rolled his eyes, peered at James hand and chuckled.  
"Other hand, I'm guessing?" James froze and turned to look at his palm. True enough, there wasn't any splitters in his left hand but there was practically a _forest_ in his right palm.  
"Heh heh, just testing your doctoring ability?" James hazarded. Logan gave his own of his looks. The one that said "If you think I'm falling for that then you really don't think I'm too intelligent, do you?"  
"Yeeah, let's just stick with that." Logan ducked his head to deal with the splitters and a silence filled the room. Well almost. The shouts and noises from underneath them from the TV still were heard occasionally. Not an uncomfortable silence, a silence that was anticipated between both people. James watched as Logan carefully picked at the splitters, slowly removing them and placing them on his bed pillow beside him. Each movement was made so gently that James didn't realise that Logan had even moved the tweezers. Logan was like that. He was always so careful and so gentle. He didn't deserve all this shit. His mother having a mental illness and winning the shit dad lottery with Mr Mitchell probably didn't help him when he was growing up. The reason that he was becoming a doctor was linked to the fact that he could see easily past the fakery and lies and see when a child is properly hurt. I mean, he has enough experience putting up these "protective" wall, he could find the weak point.  
"There." Logan said softly, putting down the tweezers and brushing the splitters carefully into the bin. James flexed his hand and blurted something out he would probably regret.  
"Why? Why does everything bad happen to you?" James blurted then covered his mouth with his hand. Logan gave his a quizzical look.  
"What do ya' mean?" He asked, hand frozen in the act of putting the tweezers away.  
"Your dad is an utter douche, you don't have a mum, you keep getting hurt and bullies always pick on you. Don't you think God could just give you a break?" James ranted. The noise from upstairs wasn't there anymore as Carlos and Kendall had stopped playing the Wii and where, currently, hiding in Carlos' and James' room which was a dump. Logan had a good view of them at the moment even if they didn't know it.  
"Well, all these things have reasons. My mum was depressed, pure and simple. If she had gone to the doctor like my dad begged her to before I was born then life would be different. My dad hates being out of control so when mum didn't listen to him, he hit her. It just progressed to when he did need a reason anymore. Bullies pick on me because I'm **just slightly** shorter than you and Kendall and a bit less broad than Carlos, making me look the weakest which isn't true as you all know." Logan grinned. It was true, James might work out a lot but Logan had naturally strong, wiry arms. If Logan decided you were going to hit the ground then you didn't have much choice especially when Kendall followed him in the attack. Kendall wouldn't live with himself if Logan got hurt again. Bullies don't go after him anymore, Kendall made sure of that. After being strung up by your underwear and left for 4 hours in the lobby, you usually don't mess with those guys again. Don't get me started on the sheer amount of blackmail material the residents of the Palmwoods gained that day.  
"The reason I keep getting hurt is that I'm just a klutz. I drop things all the time, I'm officially not allowed to take out any science experiments on my own anymore in school and Gustavo has to keep me away from all electrical things at all time in case I electrocute myself again...oops..." Three pairs of eyes closed in on him with slightly glarey looks, James being the closest on the bed, Kendall and Carlos poking their heads either side of the door frame, not actually touching the frame because of the threat of facing the wrath of the sadistic ghost.  
"What do you mean _**again**_?"  
"Heh heh...uhh...is it me or is it...yeah it's just me..." Logan made a few squeaking noises as the three other boys closed in like pack animals. Hyenas, maybe. Hyenas fit their facial expressions. Angry, snarly expressions. Logan had fallen back into his two reactions for panic. He couldn't run anywhere now except out the window. He might want to get away from the others right now but suicide wasn't going to help. So he unconsciously chose the first (and most embarrassing) method of getting away. His last thought was "**He** is going to kill me. Not again..." Logan slid to the floor as the other boys simply stood and stared, shocked at what they had done.

...

AHHH! I made Logan faint again! *ducks from chair* Yeah, I love you too, Logan. Jeez, temperamental or what? Anyway! A massive shout out to my reviews; Logan Henderson Is Mine, mandy124, a person-a paper- a promise, xBleepblapbloopx, and CheekyBrunette. I love you all and you make me so happy! *hugs everyone!*  
BTW can someone (anyone!) vote on my poll? I have many, many ideas for fics. Unfortunately, tests eat at my brain and I need someone to help me put them in order. This is why I need you lot, yes YOU, to vote and see what ones you like bestest! OH! And if you find the Morganville quote, you get a hug and a praising in the next chapter!

MomentaryRandomness: CheekyBrunette, I can't believe you think MY story is good! You stories are like nomnomnom. Oliver like eating your stories and leaving them on tabs for me to read. (seriously. My laptop pulls up fanfics. He has good taste too.)

Chill out and enjoy the pancakes, dudes.  
Elli x


	5. Chapter 5: Prone

...  
Prone  
...

Logan Mitchell lay in a dead faint; breathing shallow and deathly pale. And it was all Kendall Knight's fault. Of course, everyone else would disagree completely but to Kendall, he had messed up royally. He had made is best friend, his little brother collapse from panic. There was more than that obviously. He had just pored a minuscule part of his heart out and his friends had turned on him but he knew they weren't going to hurt him. What Kendall didn't know was that instead of seeing his friends advance on him, Logan had seen something a lot more terrifying. His father.

In that memory he was 4. Logan had a very good memory which was a double edged blade. It made tests and schoolwork easy but nightmares were more vivid, more believably real. Little four year old Logan had just started school, a year early under recommendation from his teacher. He was only a month or two behind her older class and he definitely didn't need his second year. Besides after her older class had left, Logan wouldn't have any good friends. The strong Kendall Knight, the vain James Diamond and the crazy Carlos Garcia were his best friends "efer" as Logan himself had said. He had a little speech impairment but that was barely noticeable as he chatted animatedly with the other boys. His teacher, Miss Riley, frowned as Logan put up his hands while talking and a black blue bruise came into view. He was constantly covered in small cuts and bruises. He always said had he had fallen over or bumped into something. It wasn't something that Miss Riley doubted because Logan must be neck and neck with Carlos in the "who has been to the nurse's most often this year" contest. But the way Logan said these things...it always sounded a little higher pitched, a little more strained. She wasn't the only one who had noticed. Kendall had sat beside Logan in class everyday and a lot of the time Miss Riley had caught bits of the conversation.  
"Logie, what happened?" or "You didn't just fall over, did you?" were fairly common questions asked by the stubborn blonde. The raven haired boy though had always laughed or shrugged them off and carried on with his day. She had also caught James peering at Logan suspiciously sometimes. James was always good at noticing little things and knew when a bruise was appearing and always brought it up with Logan. Whenever Logan had shied away from questions, James told Kendall. Kendall could fix it. It was what Kendall did. He fixed problems. Unfortunately, no matter how much help the boys gave him, Logan felt he couldn't get away, couldn't be fixed. He was in too many itty bitty teeny weenie pieces. Anyway, back to the flash back. Logan was four. He was walking down the road to his house, trying to take as long as possible. His little sister, Noelle, was already at home. No. She would be at Mrs Knight's. Mrs Knight always babysat Noelle for his father because his father was always out for most of the day. A few stray leaves flickered around Logan as he walked down his drive. He reached the house and listened. If his father was cursing, he was very angry. If it was quiet then his dad wasn't too angry and he probably could escape to his room for a few hours. There was relative silence except for the whirring of the washing-machine in the kitchen. Logan sighed in relief and opened the stiff door. The room was dark and musty smelling yet clean and rather tidy but Logan was used to this. This was nothing new to him. His father must have been out at the shops or collecting Noelle from the Knight's house. Logan ran upstairs and got out his little homework jotter full of sums his teacher, Mrs Harding, had written out in blue pen. Logan's sums were a little harder with two digits instead of just one unlike everyone else's because he was so good at them. He settled down and was almost finished number three (the question was 9+16, by the way) when a door slammed down stairs. Logan froze. His father shouted out for him to come down stairs. He leapt to his feet and was down the stairs so quick, he was tripping over his own two feet. Noelle wasn't there.  
"Where's the baby, Daddy?" Logan asked very quietly, not daring to look up. His father looked down at him and smiled softly.  
"Mrs Knight is looking after her tonight. She asked if I wanted to take a little break. So it's just you and me tonight, Little Logan." Logan's eyes widened. He was scared. Him and his dad...all alone. For the night. The last time that had happened, Logan had found himself on the floor, bleeding from his forehead with an array of bruises covering everywhere. He had spilt a glass of water. Mr Mitchell didn't need a proper reason anymore. It seemed Logan was his stress ball. Except this one didn't just pop back into shape and he seemed to like that fact even more.  
"You hungry, Logan? I got us some pizza." His dad smiled softly. Logan was all wound up. He didn't know what he wanted.  
"Sure...dad. That would be...nice..." Logan stuttered out. Maybe his dad had changed. Maybe he was going to be OK. His dad would be just like Carlos' dad or James' dad or Kendall's dad. He could finally, maybe, just maybe, have a normal dad. If he didn't mess up. Later that evening, Logan was washing the dishes with his father. A few beer bottles were littered around his father and Logan was on edge. When Mr Mitchell drank, setting him off was extremely likely. Logan was passed a heavy pot, one a lot bigger than his head. He could probably fit inside that pot. It was much too heavy for Logan and it slipped from his grasp. It clattered against the washboard. Logan's heart stopped. In almost slow motion, he looked over at his father, trembling. Mr Mitchell straightened up and turned to his son who was doing his best to disappear. A fist knocked the boy off his feet. Logan's head bounced of the ceramic tiles but he had no time to feel sorry for himself as his father loomed over him, breath like a brewery.  
"What..did I tell you, Logan? Tell me." Logan couldn't answer. His brain wouldn't work properly. His father struck out, putting all his weight on his left hand which was leaning on Logan's shoulder. Logan gasped and cried out, tears rolling down his face.  
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Dad. Please, don't... I didn't mean too, I promise I'll be good, I promise..." But it was too late for that. Logan's dad was angry. He picked up the boy easily and sat him on the large wooden chair that sat at the table. Logan was paralysed with fear so he didn't run. Once he did and that was one thing he would never, ever do again. His father picked up a bread knife and watched as Logan whimpered to himself and sobbed softly. He then proceeded to place the knife in the cooker oven and turned it on. High. Logan couldn't contain himself and screamed for help. His father turned around so fast, it was a blur and struck him right in the gut. Logan gasped and curled himself up into a ball. He uncurled himself about 5 minutes later and watched his father take the knife out slowly with oven mitts. He turned to Logan.  
"Take off your shirt." He said, voice laced with venom for the young boy sat trembling with a wet tear stained face. "I said, take off your shirt!" He roared, slicing his upper arm quickly in a smooth motion, revelling in the pained whimpering scream. Logan stared at his father's face. A crazed wild hungry look hung around his face. Earlier when the boys had pulled his face, they were faking it. But this look, this look couldn't be faked. It was so untamed and so passionately hateful that it couldn't be faked. Logan didn't remember anything after that point probably because he had passed out but he remembered waking up the next day with dry blood clinging to his chest. 5 long strokes were spread along his chest. They had all healed up well and there wasn't a visual scar but to Logan's mind, the grenade sized crater was hard to miss.

Logan Mitchell awoke, in the present, to find Carlos Garcia lying on his shoulder. He was lying in bed. Weird. He didn't remember going to bed. And if he did go to bed then why the fuck was Carlos in his room? And where was Kendall? He looked over at his best friends' bed and saw it was empty. He then pushed himself upright, shoving Carlos off him at the same time (it didn't matter if Carlos was pushed in his sleep because Carlos was a notoriously heavy sleeper) and had to suppress a laugh at the sight of Carlos' head hanging backwards, leaning on the back of his chair. He looked around to find Kendall asleep in a chair against the door, just in case of intruders it seemed and James with his face against the window. Logan smiled and turned to see the clock. was Saturday so they had a day off from recording. Usually, they all slept in until about 12 because Gustavo liked to have them up at the studio, nice and early. Logan lay back in bed and smoothed his hair against his head. He had serious bed head today but he wasn't as obsessive about it as James but knowing James, he would be attacked with a comb and some 'Cuda products if he left it the way it was. He heard someone waking up at the other side of the room. Kendall.  
"Hey Kendall." Logan greeted his best friend as he blinked the rest of his sleep away.  
"Hey Loganator. You OK?" Kendall seemed really worried all of a sudden.  
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" Logan was getting a bit paranoid. What if something bad had happened and he couldn't remember?  
"You fainted and then had some pretty nasty nightmares..." Logan turned away, embarrassed. He knew he talked during nightmares.  
"Must have been everything going to my head. Sorry I scared you..."  
"Nah, it's OK. As long as your fine now." After waking up, Kendall was never very talkative. A comfortable almost silence was between them marred only by Carlos' snoring.  
"Uhh...Kendall?" Kendall looked up from his shoes. He was beginning to nod off again.  
"Yeah?"  
"What did I actually...you know...say?" Logan asked, eyes wide and round.  
"Things like "I'm sorry" and "No don't" and one time..." Kendall swallowed hard. "Not the knife, again." Kendall was shaken by the short phrases that Logan had uttered. So many little things would haunt him now.  
"I was sooo...s-scared that time, Kendall. I honestly thought I was going to die." Logan's eyes were huge and leaked tears. Kendall got up from his chair and sat on the bed beside Logan and hugged him, letting the smaller boy sob quietly into his shoulder.

...

I am soooooo sorry but my internet cut out so I couldn't post this or the last chapter last night so you get two from yesterday and another one from today! Aren't I nice? Anyway, guess what! Today is my birthday! *happy dance* And all I want from you guys is...reviews! You guys keep me positive and keep me writing! You guys rock! Peace out,  
Elli x


	6. Chapter 6: Normal

Jeez forgot this,

*~Disclaimer~* I do not own Big Time Rush and if I did, Logan would get more lines, there would be a massive Logan back story episode and this story would be an episode. Yeah. So it's pretty obvious I don't own BRT isn't it?

...  
Normal...  
...

A few days later, everything had relatively calmed down. They had gone back to school, caught up with friends, panicked (well Logan did) about finishing homework in time and went back to Rocque Records for recording. Logan woke up and looked around his room, it was super tidy and he noticed Kendall asleep in his own bed, snoring softly. Logan checked the clock. 7:51. Logan grabbed and threw his pillow at Kendall who jerked awake, thinking something was wrong.  
"Logan? What was that for? Come on!" Kendall whined loudly.  
"7:51, Kendall! We have to leave for Rocque Records at eight! Eight, Kendall! 9 MINUTES! There is NO way James can do his hair in 9 minutes and he wouldn't leave without it done! As if Carlos is going to get up anytime soon!" Logan screamed, using his hands as he was talking. Kendall laughed at the smaller boy and gave him a massive smile.  
"Chill, dude! We can make it on time. We always do." Kendall grinned, grabbed his clothes for the day and headed off to the bathroom. Logan was left, sitting on his bed, exhausted, emotionally and physically. Just sheer tiredness was written all over his face. His eyes were rimmed with dark circles, there was a definite red splash in his left eye, a tell tale sign that he was either tired or sick and he didn't feel sick so that was out of the question. Logan let his face fall into his hands. He hadn't slept properly since his dad attacked him on the street. His paranoia was driving everyone (including himself) round the bend. He was even becoming scared of the dark. When the lights ever went out, Logan's heart raced and his breathing was ragged, lungs struggling to gain oxygen. His brown eyes fluttered closed then open a few times in succession but Logan was concentrated on staying awake. Sleep was an inconvenience at the moment. Since his little "incident", everyone had been treating him like a bloody child and he was bored of it. Kendall was so protective; Logan thought he had frightened the life out of Kelly when she asked to see Logan alone. Turns out all she wanted was to ask if he was feeling better. Gustavo had backed off Logan's case for a while (no telling how long that would last but one could hope) ever since Kendall thought he had been just a little too much in Logan's face during a rehearsal. Logan was having problems with one dance sequence because of a lingering pain in his left side and Gustavo had forgotten about this and had chalked it up to laziness. Which was weird because one thing Logan isn't is lazy. But anyway, Gustavo had exploded at Logan and Logan just stood there, taking it all, no worries until he was shoved lightly. Logan had THE worst balance ever and had landed right on his butt. To make matters worse, Logan had subconsciously let out a startled yelp. Kendall was pissed. Kendall was VERY pissed and it took James, Carlos, Logan and Kelly to stop him from brutally murdering the music producer. I am not kidding. He was shouting very...vivid and inventive forms of torture, one involving a flame-thrower, Matthew McConahey and a pitchfork. You fill in the blanks. James became the therapist. He was constantly asking Logan was he OK or did he want to talk. In fact all he really wanted to do was go ice skating but the doctor said he couldn't and he had to spend an hour just sitting at the stand, watching the others play, itching to go on the ice himself. Carlos was just...Carlos. He couldn't change much although if they did fight, Carlos wasn't as violent with the dark haired boy. Mrs Knight became the overbearing mother. Imagine Kendall being babied by his mother; now imagine if Kendall was hurt. Now imagine Kendall being hurt and sick then times it by five and you've got what Logan felt like right now. Very, very, very babied. Katie was still Katie around him although he had caught some of her slightly worried looks. He hadn't seen Camille yet because she was away casting for a few days but she was coming back today so that wasn't a problem. Much. Logan was probably going to be attacked and in for a world of hurt and drama once Camille locked on her target. Ahhh, poor Logan. His stalker becoming a bit more stalkery. He had already received so many texts in the last night; he had to turn his phone on silent. He had nothing against Owl City but after hearing Umbrella Beach constantly restarting every 5, 10 seconds was driving him bananas. Camille must be the fastest texter ever though because these were long novels of texts not just little words, big long giant, huge massive texts. Anyway, Logan dragged himself out of bed, grabbed a random t-shirt and jeans and got changed. He still looked like crap. Logan grabbed his gel and spiked the front of his hair up like always but still he didn't look like Logan. Logan grinned and remembered something. Coffee. Coffee is God's gift to doctors and singers. But first he'd better wake up James and Carlos.

A shoe connected suddenly with Carlos' head. Carlos awoke, not too happy. Logan was standing at the door, looking a lot more than not happy.  
"What?" Then it dawned on Carlos. He grinned evilly. "You haven't had your morning coffee yet, have you?" Logan's deepening scowl deepened confirming Carlos' guess. Logan needed a coffee every morning or he'd get REALLY evil and snappy. Not good. Especially if you would be stuck in a recording booth with him for at least two hours.  
"Shut up and wake up Sleeping Beauty over there." Logan turned on his heel and stalked back into the kitchen where a distinct smell of coffee was emanating. Carlos groaned and turned to James. He was smiling and sub consciously smoothing his hair and doing those weird jazz hands around his face. Urgh. He was not going to wake up easily.

Logan sipped his coffee and smiled softly. Yeah, coffee made it better. The warm tingly feeling was waking him up and was letting him have some free rein over his mind. He had a few massive black spots in his childhood. Usually after some vicious beating. His father was always relentless when he got angry. He resorted not just to violence but to psychological methods of torture. Once he had locked him in a tiny cupboard for hours on end. He had simply forgotten about his small 6 year old son and only remembered to let him out after he had picked up a knife coated in blood. Logan was terrified of enclosed spaces ever since. The Super Party Fun Box was so similar to the cupboard that Logan was constantly on the verge on a panic attack. The other three didn't see the wild scared look in Logan's eyes as he pushed himself against the door, in the vain hope it could be opened from the inside. Of course it didn't want to open and when Logan did get out of the restricting box, he had to fill his lungs with air, air that he had needed for at least half an hour. He felt he had no room to expand his lungs in that cramped box. Another thing that scared Logan was snakes. The warm...thing just creeped him out too much to handle. His father had figured this out and had used this against him. Logan didn't even want to talk about that now. It was just...ick. The coffee had woken up his muscles and Logan felt he could do backflips. Which he could. Not to boast or anything. It was just...wait no. He was not going to say the A word. That word had become the bane of his existence. Every single time anyone said it, Kendall and Carlos would go nuts and attack each other. Viciously. Like wild animals. Like a pack of feuding lions. And with feuding lions, you don't try and stop them because you would be eaten. And Logan did not want to be eaten. Call him old-fashioned but he quite enjoyed living. Living was fun and he got cookies. Cookies= goodness. Carlos entered the room wearing some...odd headgear.  
"Carlos, why are you wearing a...what is that anyway?" The pink stuff was smothered over his face, hair and his precious helmet.  
"Strawberry and Vanilla Ice Cream. I'm guessing you had your coffee?" Carlos sat down, ignoring Logan's disgusted look.  
"The last time we had ice cream was a week ago! Has that...that thing been festering in your room for a week?" Logan looked flabbergasted that someone could just leave such a disgusting thing on their floor.  
"Uhh...yeah? What's wrong with that?" Carlos asked, dopey as ever, soaking his head underneath the kitchen taps.  
"1. It's disgusting, and 2. How did you get strawberry and vanilla ice cream all over your head?" Logan asked, handing the Latino a dry towel. Carlos scrubbed his face dry.  
"I tried to wake James. He's awake now but he's annoyed at me. He tried to steal my helmet but it was stuck to my head cos of the ice cream and the clasp thingy so he had to drag my head around but it was OK because he gave up soon enough and kicked out Kendall from the bathroom and now he's in there." Carlos finished and grabbed himself a piece of toast from Logan's plate.  
Thant was the worst run on sentence ever. Miss Jacobs would be so ashamed." Carlos would never admit it but back in Minnesota, Carlos had had a crush on their 4th year primary teacher. He would even go in at lunch break sometimes to get "help" with his grammar and spelling. Carlos scowled and swiped at the back of Logan's head.  
"Hey, pass me my meds, will you?" Logan asked as he spread some blackberry jam on his toast while Carlos went for Nutella.  
"Why do you still need these anyway?" Carlos tossed Logan the supplements of Vitamin C and Cod Liver Oil. Logan caught them and poured out one of each, a chewy orange flavoured one and a smooth browner looking one. He popped them the brown one in his mouth and swallowed in quickly then picked up the orange one and chewed it slowly. After it was finished, Logan looked up at Carlos who was standing in front of his stool.  
"Well, you remember the time I had the really bad bug?" Carlos nodded, thinking about that awful week. Logan had been really very sick. He was throwing up every half hour and he could barely walk. After he had "recovered", he was still very weak so he had bought those little tablets and now he was much better.  
"Well because my immune system took so long to recover, I had to give it a little help and these tablets help me stay well." Carlos smiled. He liked it when Logan wasn't sick. He was a lot livelier and was hyper more often when he was well. Kendall walked into the kitchen looking slightly rumpled and... streaked orange? Logan and Carlos gave him a very odd look, the same very odd look with one eyebrow raised.  
"James...bathroom...Cuda." Kendall gasped out. Carlos and Logan nodded, understanding instantly. Them also had been attacked in the morning by whatever James had handy. Shoes, clothes, hair care products, you name it, it's been aimed at one of the three boy's at least once. He collapsed on the stool beside Logan and Logan passed him his favourite orange juice. Kendall beamed at Logan and gulped the fruity drink down in two or three gulps. Kendall then leaned over and ruffled Logan's hair.  
"You OK?" Logan smiled and nodded. Just then Kelly came in the door, clipboard in hand.  
"Come on, guys. Gustavo is going to blow a gasket if I keep him waiting any longer." James poked his head out of the bathroom.  
"Is my hair OK?" James asked, looking worried. His hair might NOT look OK. Then he would die. Because his hair is everything and if it was lifeless...he would have a seizure.  
"It's. Fine. Now get over here now before we leave you to make your own way to the studio."  
"You wouldn't do that...right?" No answer as the three other boys and Kelly left the flat, sly smiles hided from James. "RIGHT?" He screamed, taking off after them. On a completely unrelated topic, James was the first one to the car...

Logan walked into the cramped booth and looked around. Two fluffy pillows lay in front of him. He gave Kelly and Gustavo a pointed look.  
"Just for sound, Logan. I promise." Kelly said, giving Logan an almost pitying look as she reached over Gustavo to press the button that would let the boy hear her talk.  
"But if you did go down again..." Gustavo grumbled softly. Logan was hurt a bit by that. Did they think he was just going to start fainting left, right and center now?  
"I'm fine now! OK? Just leave it!" Logan cried indignantly, talking rapidly and usuing his hands as if he was talking to someone with hearing difficulties.  
"OK, Logan. We understand but still, precautions are needed. What if you or anyone else for that matter collapsed? You were lucky you missed all the wires and mike stands in there." Kelly soothed, used to this sort of thing from Gustavo's rages. If she could handle an angry Gustavo, she could handle anything including a panic prone 16 year old. Logan seemed to calm down a bit after hearing this and asked in his normal voice, "So what is it you want me to do?" He was on his own in the booth.  
"We just need you to do a couple of higher notes for us. The other boys can't get up that high." It was true, Logan did seem to have a slightly more tenor sounding voice while James, Carlos and Kendall had much lower voices. He sung his scale and Gustavo nodded to let him go. He bashed into Kendall as he hopped out of the booth.  
"Hey! What's the big...oh hey, Kendall." Kendall looked down, surprised that something had just collided with him on a seemingly empty hallway.  
"Logan? How did you get out here? The door's on the other side of the booth." Logan shook his head and grabbed the handle of the second door that no one else had noticed. He opened it and Kendall peered in. Low and behold, there was the usual red and black recording booth.  
"Huh. Guess I never saw that before." Kendall grinned and closed the door, his eyes glinting in that way that made Logan roll his eyes and get ready to hear a completely out there plan that if left only to Kendall would most likely result in death. Multiple deaths were the most likely.  
"What now?" Logan leaned on the wall and grimaced at the dust. He tried wiping it clear but the dust stuck stubbornly.  
"Quit OCDing and listen to your big brother. What if... we pranked Gustavo?" Kendall grinned darkly at Logan's paled face.  
"And get ourselves killed? Yeah, why not? It's just.." But Kendall cut in quickly.  
"That's the spirit, Logie! Now all we need is..." Just then, Logan's mobile phone sounded in his pocket.  
"Camille again? I think she liiiiiikes you, Logan." Kendall grinned but stopped at Logan's puzzled look.  
"No...it's an unknown number." Logan's face was ashen. "It just says "I see you, Little Logan" but that means..." Now there was a reason that I explained Logan's morning to you. You see, that morning was to be no different to any morning until now. Because when Logan woke up, he didn't think he would be kidnapped from Rocque Records. But here he was, gun to his head, watching Kendall freeze as a cold voice says in his ear, "I see you. And now you've got nowhere to hide." That's when the rest of the world was blotted out as a chloroform soaked cloth was pressed over his mouth and nose.

...

Oh. My. Giddy. Aunt. This chapter did not want to be written! I begged and pleaded and cried but it still would play nice. Instead the next chapter dangled in front of my face, promising me lots of angsty Logan goodness. Damn the muses! Please review cos you guys rock.  
Peace out and don't step on the ducks,

Elli x


	7. Chapter 7: Infliction

...  
Infliction  
...

This was just dandy. He had just watched his best friend snatched away from him and what did he do? He stood there like an idiot and let him. I mean, come on! How just let's their best friend get kidnapped by their crazy, messed up father? Nobody! Except Kendall Knight. Kendall was currently sprinting after the crazed Mitchell around Rocque Records. Logan was trapped in his arms. Kendall had seen Logan's blind panic then after that cloth was held to his face, he had watched Logan's eyes flicker around terrified then clear as he had no choice but to inhale the chemicals that were soaked in the dirty cloth. Logan would have a fit if he knew that such a disgusting thing was so close to his face. But at the moment, Logan Mitchell was a little indisposed. And if Kendall didn't hurry up, he doubted he would get Logan back at all...unless it was in a casket.

...

He had waited too long for this. Much too long. It was his fault. His fault Cassandra wasn't here anymore. If he had been a better son, then Cassandra could have lived. After she died, he was pleased. Pleased his mother was gone. Logan had to pay. And pay he did. But no matter what happened in that house, nothing would compare to the torture he was going to face in the next week. And he couldn't wait to inflict it.

...

Carlos and James were sitting outside in the sun when a screeching car and a familiar yell jerked them from the gorgeous LA sunshine. A very familiar yell.  
"Kendall! What's up?" James asked trying to get his friend's attention but failed.  
"Kendall! Stop! You're going to..." Carlos tried but that the same luck as James. Kendall's eyes were betrayed his desperate emotions. He was raw, unfeeling to everything except that his best friend, little brother was harmed or has about to be. He pushed past James and Carlos and carried on after the black car that Mr Mitchell had stolen and placed Logan in the back. Soon though, it was too late and the car disappeared. Kendall's knees collapsed and he couldn't feel anything. One thing stood out. Failure. He sobbed openly, kneeling in the middle of the pavement.

...

Logan awoke. It was a dark room. Very dark. There was almost no light and the brightest thing in the entire room was his pale skin as one of the few beams of light reflected on his skin. The room was cold and had a high ceiling. The walls were all stone and looked wet. Logan himself was chained to the east wall, facing the thick wooden door with the eye slot he had seen on those prison film. There was no windows and a leak dripped incessantly somewhere in the background. That's when Logan saw something bone chilling. To him anyway. Electric blue eyes. Those blue eyes that had terrified him in childhood and hunted him in dreams. Nightmares more like. The look they held made Logan whimper silently. The look of glee and excitement was frightening him out of his mind. Last time he had seen that look...

_Logan was ten. He was sitting in the living room, trying to disappear. It never worked so why would it now? Still he tried. Tried to ignore his father's madness. Tried to ignore his sister's depression and tremors. Tried to ignore everyone's remarks about what a clumsy boy he was. Tried but ultimately failed. His father just screamed those ugly words at him and told his little eight year old sister she was a disgrace and was utterly worthless just like her big brother. Logan snapped inside. He wasn't going to take this. He wasn't going to let his father ruin Noelle like he had ruined him. She was an innocent in all this. He was an innocent child at one point but that seemed so far away that it was impossible to remember. Just snippets of laughing and smiling with his eyes not his mouth.  
"Shut up! Just stop! Stop it now!" Logan screamed on the top of his lungs and felt exhilarated. He had finally done it. He had shouted at his father. His father turned and growled. He was picked up by the throat and hoisted up into the air. He kicked and punched, trying to free himself from the iron grip. Noelle screamed and started gripping her father's limbs, trying in vain to free her brother. Her father just turned and knocked her upside the head. She stumbled and hit her head off a coffee table, making the papers flutter gracefully, deep red blood splattered over the pure white, tainting it. He then turned his attention to Logan again. He smiled and cocked his head.  
"Little Logan. My Cassandra's baby boy." His face darkened and Logan met with the floor, hard. He bit his lip and swore mentally as he drew blood. "It's your fault she's gone. YOURS!" An iron fist connected with his abdomen. Logan curled on his side and bit back a sob as a set of steel toed boot caps slammed into his spine. Then something different happened. His father left. For the kitchen. Logan didn't know whether to be scared or thankful. As fate should have it, he should have run. Mr Daniel Mitchell stumbled into the living room, drunk as a skunk, grasping a carving knife. Logan leapt to his feet and stumbled away fearfully. He reached the wall and turned back to face his father, glee and excitement written all over his face.  
"I'm going to kill you, Little Logie. I'm going to slice you open and laugh as the light in your eyes die. But before that..." Logan was picked up again by the throat and his father squeezed his throat slowly, grinning at the panic in Logan's eyes. Then his eyelids began to shut and his body became still about from a few twitches. Then he was let go and Logan's lungs took in massive gulp of air.  
"Huh, it was easier than I thought. I thought I wouldn't be able to do it but I almost killed you. How does that make you feel?" It terrified Logan. He almost died and he couldn't do anything to save himself. He then knew his father wasn't just threatening him, he meant it. He was going to die. Logan shut his eyes and blocked out this hellhole of a home. Instead, he imagined his friends. They would be devastated when they found out he had died. But it was inevitable now. The carving knife lightly made a cross on his chest, slicing skin and clothes.  
"X marks the spot." Mr Mitchell dug the knife deep into Logan's chest but not deep enough to kill him. Logan was shocked out of his dream and screamed and yelled on the top of his lungs. Keeping quiet meant nothing anymore. He knew he was going to die and that nothing could make this any worse. Mr Mitchell ignored him for once and concentrated on pulling the knife down through Logan's skin when a flood of police officers tackled him. Officer Garcia was there and stopped as he say Logan slide down the wall, blood dripping off him in streams. Logan looked up and Mr Garcia watched as he mouthed "thank you" and then slipped into unconsciousness._

Logan gasped for breath as his father released his head. Water dripped from his face and he tried to get away but those strong arms were relentless. His head was forced under the icy cold water again, eyes burning and lungs screaming for more air. He tried to push himself up but was met with a slamming hand on the back which made him gasp and lose the precious air he had tried to keep safe, tried to make last. But it was no use. His lungs had no more air. He was going to drown. He flailed and almost cried when his father let him up to breathe.  
"You're not going to make it, Little Logan. This is just the beginning." Logan's eyes betrayed his fear as his satanic father smiled and dunked his head in the icy water once again.

...

Katie Knight was shell shocked. There were no other words to describe her state of mind. She had been too young to hear about Logan's horrid past and the fact all these were coming to light now was just so...Logan had been her age when they had caught Logan's father. Ten years. Logan was trapped, harmed, abused for ten consecutive years. What she couldn't believe was how Logan could behave and function like a human being now. He was the "normal one". It was his stereotype. The smart yet normal one. Katie had made all of these stereotypes when she was younger. The strong yet stupid one fitted Carlos perfectly in her mind. The vain yet protective one was James which again fitted easily because if anyone was hurt, you did not want James Diamond's anger following you around. The mischievous yet the leader was obviously Kendall, he leaded his best friends through everything but now...Kendall was red eyed and broken. James was detached and imperfect. He no longer had his hair perfect, his clothes were rumpled and his face was paler than ever before. Carlos was...not Carlos. He was zapped of all his energy and it pained Katie to see them all so...incomplete. They weren't the same. They needed their quiet voice of reason, helping them, lifting them, letting them be themselves. The door opened. No one but Katie reacted. It was Mrs Knight.  
"Boys? What's the matter, where's Logan? Katie, sweetie, what's wrong?" Katie slammed into her mother, holding her tight as if she could disappear at any moment.  
"He's gone, mum. He's gone. Gone, gone, gone." Katie sobbed as her mother curled her loving motherly arms around the weeping ten year old that was scared and young and need someone to tell her it was going to be OK.

...

Carlos was scared. He didn't like being scared. It felt foreign and alien. It felt wrong. Logan was the nervous wreak most of the time while Carlos found enjoyment out of making him jump at least a few metres off his chair. It was hilarious. Was hilarious. Logan might be gone. That was just.. impossible. Implausible. Life without Logan was just wrong. It wasn't right. It wasn't proper. Life need a Logan. Like it needed a Carlos and a James and a Kendall. If the world lacked any of those things it fell apart. He needed to find Logan. No, he needed someone who could. He grabbed his phone of the table and dialled the number he knew from heart. He clutched the mobile like a lifeline as it rang. The person at the other side answered.  
"Papi? We...I need you. I really do."

...

James couldn't figure anything out. Logan was gone. Why was Logan gone? His dad had got him. Why did his dad get him? Because he wasn't there. If he was there he could have saved Logan. He was the second fastest runner. Logan was first, then James and Carlos and Kendall were around joint. They had never needed much speed because in games, they usually played goalie while James and Logan played attack against each other. It wasn't only in hockey. Logan had a sprinter's build while everyone else was bulkier which often annoyed Logan very, very much. If he got the chance though, it could have saved his life. James wonders if there's a life to save still. He can hear Katie crying and Carlos talking into his phone. If he was trying to call Logan, he could give up now. James had left around thirty voicemails on Logan's cell, once or twice just to hear his voicemail message. James hoped. Hoped that Kendall could be fixed, that Carlos could go back to being Carlos, that Katie could go back to being an evil madam and that he could laugh at her, claiming she has a crush on him, that Logan could come home. James hoped.

...

**Okey Dokey! That's your lot! OK everyone! I've had over a thousand hits and over twenty reviews...you know what that means...HUGS AND CHOCOLATE! *hugs and hands everyone a Galaxy bar* Love to Logan Henderson Is Mine (yes you can hug Logan), mandy124, a person-a paper-a promise, xBleepblapbloopx, , CheekyBrunette, chanson, Cooperbear22 and 2 kool 2 spell "kool" right. I love you all! In fact! I'll go one better than chocolate! Logan hugs for everyone! **

**P.S) yes mandy124, Logan was taken at Rocque Records but only Kendall saw all the drama happen. This chapter hopefully filled the blanks!**

**And to you all, serenity, peace and awesomeness,**

**Elli x**


	8. Chapter 8: Choice

...  
Choice  
...

Logan Mitchell sat in front of 5 boxes. Unmarked boxes put there by his father. He had no idea what

was in them and quite frankly, he was happier with this fact. If he knew what was in there then his fear would be overwhelming. He didn't need a panic attack, not even a baby one, because here, with his father, any and all weakness could by violated. His father knew he preferred his right foot to his left so he snapped his right ankle clean. Logan had tried to splint it but the ropes around his arms made it virtually impossible. His father had just left a few medical things just out of reach and left with the words "Let's see if you can fix this one, doctor boy" and slammed the door leaving Logan wet from the dunking, bloody from the beating and drained from the entire experience. Being kidnapped was not all glamorous like in those TV shows Mrs Knight liked to watch. He was tired, beaten, hungry, drain, thirsty and just wanted to go home. His father had left around an hour ago, leaving the five unmarked boxes sitting quietly on the table on his left. Logan looked down at the floor. The floor was all stick from blood and this had gotten all over his clothes. James would have a fit. James. How would the talented brunette be coping? They must have thought he was dead. Logan would have come to that assumption. James would be lost. James liked knowing things for certain. He liked knowing that every morning that he could fix his hair just right. He liked knowing that every morning there would be coffee in the pot left over from when Logan had had his daily dose. He loved knowing that every morning, no matter what, his friends would be there when he woke up. But now it was different. There wasn't any Logan there in the morning and Logan didn't have any James to throw things at him at obscene hours of the morning, he didn't have any Carlos to pester him about could his helmet stop an elephant and he didn't have any Kendall to tell him to calm down and relax every now and then. He needed his friends dearly because when they were gone, a large piece of Logan was gone too. Then the door opened. Logan fell back silently, trying to look like he was asleep, ignoring the blood pooling around his head and face as he lay on his side, head curled to his chest. His father's heavy steel toed boots clumped across the stone floor. The stopped right behind Logan and his heart caught. He was going to be found out, he was going to be found out, he was going to be found out...his father tapped his back swiftly with his boot and grunted. Then he made his way across to the boxes. As he lifted the lid, he reached inside and pulled out a carving knife. Logan had a miniature heart attack because he remembered that knife. Vividly. From six years ago. The ornate design on the handle was hard to mistake. Logan closed his eyes tightly. He didn't want to know what was in the other boxes but he got the impression that he didn't have a choice.

...

Carlos Garcia Senior was considered unusually calm ever since his son got off the phone. It wouldn't surprise the police officer if his son now needed a new mobile because his old one was probably full of tears from telling his father that Logan was in the clutches of his father once again. That he was scared. Carlos, as a rule, was never scared. Panicky, yes, like the time he thought he was going to die because a parrot told him but never truly, utterly scared. It was a foreign concept to Officer Garcia too until he had seen the pain and suffering and then relief in his son's best friend's eyes when he was saved. When the police force saved his life when his father showed no sign of mercy. In fact, as he left the house, Officer Garcia was saddened and disgusted to hear his father shouting abuse at the semi conscious boy in Officer Garcia's arms. He had held Logan close to him as to protect him further because he had felt so guilty he hadn't gotten there quicker. If only the chief at the time had believed him, if only the evidence had stacked up faster, if only, if only, if only. All the "if onlys" and "what ifs" had swirled around his mind no matter how hard he pushed them away. What if they had been too late? What if they had walked in and found Logan dead on the floor? What if they had to organize the boy he considered his son's funeral? What if Carlos blamed his own father for not getting to Logan in time? What if, what if, what if. The what ifs were the past but now they had all swamped back, meaner and a hell of a lot more dangerous. Daniel Mitchell obviously had no qualms over brutally murdering his own flesh and blood and Officer had absolutely no qualms over murdering the bastard who had even **dared** to lay a hand on "his" boy. His semi adopted son. Officer Garcia grabbed his standard issue handgun and his phone. He instantly dialled the house number and, as the tones rang, sighed. He would have to go through all that sensitivity training course bullshit again but for Logan, it was worth it.

...

Kendall was sick and tired of all this shit. Something had snapped inside his head. _No._ No! He was not just going to sit here and let Logan go through this. Not again. He could remember the days when Logan came to school with bruises and the days he didn't show up at all. These days were way too plentiful for Logan who went out of his way to make things safe. Kendall was often worried about his friend. The days when he came into school with red rimmed, tearful eyes. The days when he had to limp to get off the bus. The days when the bullies couldn't get a reaction from him because his mind was elsewhere and by the amount of twitching he did, not a very nice place either. Kendall stood up, anger showing on his face and turned to his friends.  
"Come on, guys. We need to find him. He can't be too far, right? We can do it. We can..." A shrill ringing of the phone stopped Kendall. He went over to it and picked the phone up cautiously.  
"Hello?"

...

Logan was still on the floor, pretending to be unconscious, trying (and failing) to ignore the objects his father was pulling out of the boxes. A carving knife. 5 full packets of needles. He had began to pull out a box of spiders (Logan shivered inwardly when he imagined what he was going to do with them. They didn't look very harmless) when a beep sounded. From Logan's pocket. His mobile. Logan swore over and over at his stupidity. He should have switched it off. Should have, should have, should have. Now, he was doomed. To enforce his thoughts, he felt himself hung in the air held up by his father.  
"What was that?" He asked, his beer stinking breath making Logan cringe.  
"N-n-nothing. It was n-nothing." Shit. Shit, shit, shit. His father smiled and slammed him into the stone wall then the smile twisted, became a demonic grin. A blood thirsty grin. Logan squirmed. His father's hand shot into his left jumper pocket. The little black LG Cookie that Mrs Knight had got him last Christmas now sat in his father's palm.  
"A whole load of nothing, eh?" Logan was pushed harder into the solid wall, he swore his spine was breaking at the pure force that was being pressed against it.  
"I-I didn't know. I swear..." A fist to the gut stooped Logan and his father dropped him, letting him fall to his feet then to his knees as he searched the contacts.  
"Camille, who's Camille, Little Logan? Your girlfriend? She could make you squirm and probably make you go demented..." His father laughed as Logan's eyes widened and his breathing rose sharply. "Just kidding, son. Don't need no help scaring you." He swung his fist around and stopped millimetres from Logan's face. Logan had braced for the incoming inpact and had his eyes screwed shut.  
"See? Easy as pie scaring the crap out of you. Take after your mother there. She was sobbing like a baby after a few punches." That was a low blow. Logan screamed at his father, getting to his feet and leaning forward while being held back by the chains around his arms.  
"Don't bring her into this. She did nothing wrong. You have no right whatsoever to even talk about her!" He screamed frenzied. He tried to lunge at his father wildly. His father just went ballistic. He grabbed Logan's throat and shoved Logan back into the wall, choosing to ignore the yelp Logan let out.  
"She was my wife. We had the perfect life until you, you little bastard, ruined it all. She was depressed after you. You killed my wife!" David Mitchell couldn't be consoled. He tighten his grip around Logan's throat. Tighter, tighter and tighter until Logan's neck couldn't be squeezed any harder and he just sunk to the floor. David let go and watched as Logan fell and coughed while trying to fill his lungs with as much air as humanly possible.  
"Pathetic, now where were we? Ah, yes. The phone. Carlos Garcia, that Hispanic idiot. He broke everything. Didn't bug me as much as you did though. His father though, he is a prick. He tazed me, did you know that?" His father asked Logan, who was still on his hands and knees.  
"Good...for...him. You...deserved it...and more..." He gasped out while staring at the stone floor, struggling to regain his composure and regular breathing pattern.  
"Heh, you've got a lot more cocky since you were ten, huh? Ah well, it still wouldn't matter. Now who else is on here? James? The Diamond kid? Should have known he would go to LA. He was the singer one. He had talent. Not like you. I have no idea why they haven't just kicked you out of their band yet. It would sound a lot better than with your squeaky voice in the mix." Logan didn't say anything to this. His father scowled and shot his foot out to kick Logan in the ribs. Logan rolled with the blow and landed on his back, still breathing heavily. He did all this torture and insulting one, to get a reaction and 2. To make Logan pay. Mr Mitchell was obsessed with Logan paying for something he didn't do. He then turned his attention back to the little phone.  
"Kendall. The Knight kid? He was alright, a bit too nosy but I could actually stand to be in the same house as him." His father smirked at the prone body of his son. "Which one should I choose to phone? Oh the possibilities...Let's just phone them all." He pressed the button to phone the contact under "Home" which was the flat. The phone was then forced to the side of Logan's face. He looked up at his father who had turned to stand behind Logan. He pulled out a gun and pressed it to the back of Logan's head.  
"Say anything about where you are and I shot." Logan didn't doubt him.  
"But I don't know where we a..." Just then the phone stopped ringing.  
"Hello?" Kendall's shaky voice filled Logan's left ear and he was never so happy to hear his best friend's voice.  
"Kendall? It's Logan...it's not good."

...

**People, I have found out something that is utterly terrifying. I am more guy-like than Tractor. It's true and I'm ashamed. We were talking at school about our favourite TV programmes. My best friends all chose soaps. What did I choose? Deadliest Catch and Ice Road Truckers. I'm sorry but I was brought up by mostly my uncles and my Grandad, never wore jeans, was recruited into herding cows since I can remember and was taught how to drive a tractor in the field at 12. Such a guy!**

**CheekyBrunette: I know what you mean with knifes. They are just so bloody fun to write with! I think I have have SFCMD (Severe Favourite Character Mutilation Disorder) as well as ADOS (Attention Deficit Oh Shiny!) and OEPA (Oh Err...Psychopath Alert). About inspiring you all I can say is...huh? I, lowly me, inspire you? ARE YOU DRUNK ON HOLY WINE? ;) Love ya really! *hug***

**Breaking big things for science, everyday,**

**Elli x **


	9. Chapter 9: Stuck

...  
Stuck  
...

"Kendall? It's Logan...it's not good." Kendall's heart had a baby heart attack and before he lost all strength in his body, he had the sense to put the phone on speaker. Only the boys were in the flat. Mrs Knight had taken Katie out for a while to help her calm down over some ice cream (hey, works for me) and hugs. Kendall slumped down, leaning on the breakfast bar as Carlos and James' eyes were huge and yelled out as they helped Kendall up.  
"Who is it, Kendall?" James asked cautiously. Kendall didn't look very capable of answering.  
"L-l... Logan-n... Logan's alive. He's OK." Kendall stammered out quickly. He might have just made a speech about how Logan would be fine and safe but actually hearing him was like a weight taken off his young shoulders and he felt so...free. Like he could fly away and everything would be OK. At last.  
"Kendall? Guys? Helllllo?" Carlos clutched the phone receiver as if it was his lifeline.  
"Logie? Logan, where are you? We miss you. Just come back, please?" Carlos chattered rapidly, slipping into some remedial Spanish that Logan partially understood here and there.  
"Carlos, I miss you too. What happened to Kendall?" Trust Logan to be more worried about his friends than himself even when he was in the life or death situation.  
"Kendall...umm...fell. Yeah, he fell over." Carlos didn't have the heart to tell Logan had Kendall was currently catatonic in James arms as he was dragged to the sofa.  
"He went down again, didn't he." This was a statement not a question. Carlos would have laughed at the matter of fact way Logan said this if the circumstances were any different.  
"Yup. Logan...are you...holding up OK? Is it real bad? I hope not cos you're too nice for this and you don't deserve it. You keep believing that, OK? Don't listen to that _embuste. _You hear? James, come over here." Carlos rambled quickly into the phone and then turned to face James. The tall brunette turned to face the Latino who was holding out the cherry red phone towards him. James took the phone and bent his head to lean on his palm.  
"Logan. Where it the name of fuck are you?" James got straight to the point, trying to ignore Carlos trying to coax Kendall out of his comatose state.  
"I-I can't r-really say-y, Jamez. How's Kendall?" James sighed.  
"Kendall will be fine in a few hours. He's having another episode." The boys referred to Kendall's behaviour under extreme duress as episodes. First he would go all catatonic then he would be like a lost child, unsure of anything and everything. Then eventually, something would click and he would be Kendall again. It usually took some begging, coaxing and an hour's wait for Kendall to go back to being Kendall again.  
"You, however, aren't going to be right as rain in an hour. Seriously, why can't you..." James trailed off, mouth agape in horror as Logan screamed. This scream was tortured and sounded like he had been mauled or viciously attacked. Which he probably had been. A voice rasped into the handset.  
"Say goodnight to Logan, boys..." A single bullet shot rang out as the line went dead.  
"Logan? LOGAN! No! No, no, no, no! This can't be happening! He was fine! He was talking! No!" James screamed into the phone as Carlos looked over at him, worriedly.  
"James, J-JAMES. Listen, listen to me. What happened? What did he say? Tell me." James looked over to Carlos with a renewed fear.  
"I...I think his dad is really going to do it. Honest to God, I think he is." The two boys looked at each other, fearfully, hoping and praying for their friend's life to be spared.

...

Logan Mitchell was currently curled up on a cold stone floor, cradling his right ankle, trying to ignore the blood rushing around his finger tips and the ominous feel of a sharp bone edge protruding the skin. A loud sob caught in his chest as he tried to ease the pain. He was barely aware of his father standing over him.  
"You were going to tell him! You couldn't tell them yet...They need to figure that out themselves...You almost ruined everything! Everything I put my work into." With every single word, there was a deft kick to either Logan's ribs or spine. Logan had a fleeting thought that when, if he got out of this mess, he would so need to see a chiropractor. And a world class therapist. His father needed a world class therapist, happy pills and Jeremy Kyle. If that didn't work, he could go vlive with Jeremy Kyle. That could work. His father would kill Jeremy Kyle then Mrs Knight wouldn't complain at the TV so much during the week. Logan inwardly laughed and his mind escaped. Escaped to that awesome (yes, he used the A word) flat with his friends. All they were doing was watching TV. That would have been normal but they were watching Dora the Explorer. Not so normal. Yeah. Not to mention Carlos was singing along. Ok, slightly more normal. Then that dream came crashing down as a serrated edge slowly made itself down Logan arm. He jerked back to reality and scrambled away.  
"Heh, that got a reaction didn't it, boy?" His father laughed, spinning the knife between his hands, the sharp tip doing nothing against his father's calloused palms. He had done manual labour before meeting his mother. You would never have thought that now, he had lost all his muscle and gained fat instead. His eyes were small and beady, the stark opposite of Logan's big, wide eyes. Apart from the eyes though, Logan did resemble his father. They had the same dark hair that grows too fast and needs cut so much that people think you have a thing for your hairdresser, same short frame and around the same intellect. So yes, you could call it genealogy or God's cruel idea of a joke, making the tormentor and the victim look so incredibly alike. Logan winced as he tried to mop up the cut on his arm whilst scooting away from his father. He had a knife and that odd look in his eye again. He turned to the knife and sighed.  
"Very cliché, don't you think? Let's get something a bit more...original, hmm?" His father beamed and turned to pick up the box closed to him. He acted rooting around inside and pulled out a kebab skewer and a sharpening knife. Logan yelped as he thought of what the skewer was for. His father proceeded to sharpen the tip of the skewer whilst looking straight at Logan.  
"Well, well. Didn't I say this was more original? You obviously haven't seen this before. But, what do you know about torture? Wikipedia was a great source. I got to use the computer in prison for "good behaviour". Then I threw that away in favour of killing and pain. You know, killing and pain is a lot more fun than sitting around staring at the four, cold, stone walls all day." Logan didn't stop to notice his father had stopped talking and now was just watching in amusement. Logan tried to pull away and hissed as his right ankle got caught and pulled, straining the incision and made it feel as if he had been set on fire. Repeatedly. He looked back up at his father who smiled and cocked his head. He all but skipped forward, seemingly excited to cause pain.  
"Don't worry, Little Logan. This would hurt a bit. It will hurt a whole lot." With this, Daniel Mitchell proceeded to pierce his son's thin skin with the razor sharp kebab skewer. It slid in easily to his side, between two ribs as Logan gasped and tried, on instinct, to rip it back out. The skewer was so cold, most likely in the minuses to Logan even if all his logic was screaming at him at metals just felt cold because of the fact that they were taking in heat from his body but his instincts were over powering the logic was yelling "get the fucking thing causing pain away". A swift kick to his broken foot soon stopped this action. His father pulled out the skewer then stabbed him on the other side, ignoring the helpless scream that erupted from Logan's lungs. In fact, he relished in it. He deserved to pay. And pay he will. Mr Mitchell pulled the skewer out again and stood up. Then he smiled at Logan and then caught him in the lower leg, just missing the clump of muscle and left the sharp skewer just sticking out. His father was exceptionally good at causing maximum pain with minimal long lasting psychical damage. Psychological damage wasn't brought into the equation. If Logan could walk and behave normally, his father took that as a success. Logan was passed screaming at this point and had gone into shock. His father crouched down in front of him and whispered in his ear.  
"As the number of boxes go down, so does your life estimate. The first box was a kebab skewer. I'll give you a clue for the second, it begins with E. Can you guess what it is? I'll give you a second clue, it can't fit in that box." Logan's eyes were blank as his father whispered to him. He just didn't have the strength to answer anymore. He was even more broken than before. His father couldn't have been more proud.  
"Number 3. You're scared of them but that doesn't narrow down the categories, does it? Not much doesn't scare you." Logan couldn't respond. His brain was just not functioning. He felt that his nerves were all disjointed and in need of repair. His brain wasn't in that dank, prison cell: his mind was floating. Away over LA, past the Palmwoods and back to Minnesota. He saw Noelle, 14 now, with her short curly dark hair and dashing green eyes by the door, doing her homework while watching the snow fall gingerly around the window. She looked so much like Camille. Logan could believe he hadn't noticed it before. Noelle turned quickly and stared at Logan but her eyes didn't see him. It was if he was an outsider, invisible to his family indoors. He noticed Mrs Cameron, with her short black hair swathed around her face. No one could mistake Noelle and Mrs Rebecca Cameron of being related. They looked so entirely different, figure to hair. But they had always got along very well. He stood in the snow for a while, just watching his family go about their daily lives without him but he was always there. When Noelle picked up her school bag, he noticed the silver chain dangle around her neck. The silver he had given her last Christmas. It was nice to know she still had it, even if this was all in his head. God she looked like Camille. Camille. The dark haired Method Actress Goddess who had somehow became very friendly with him. God, he wished she would get a part in some advert or film or anything. He did not need her attacking him again for saving her from going back to where she came from. He had only just gotten his back back to normal since her last "friendly" hug. Friendly wasn't the best word to describe their realationship but what other word was there meaning being his personal stalker ever since he had came to LA. LA. He was reminded of his three best friends. Little crazy Carlos. Tall talented James. Strong inventive Kendall. How would they be feeling? Kendall had had one of his little episodes according to James**, **who knows what was going on now. All of a sudden, a slap to the face awoke Logan from his nice little daydream.  
"ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?" His father screamed in his face. Logan cringed. His father smiled and picked Logan up, unlocking his chained hands in one smooth motion.  
"You guessed what this next thing was?" His father opened a door and threw Logan inside. Logan turned back to his father, terrified. He knew now what the second box represented.  
"Enclosed spaces." The door was slammed shut and Logan was left in the darkness.

...

**A few things I wanna clear up:  
1. Yes, the hairdresser thing happens to me...a lot.  
2. Most of the quirks I give Logan are eerily my own...*looks out window for Mr Mitchell* No we're good.  
3. Just watched Shaun of the Dead. PMSL. Indeed. Any of this doesn't make sense, you know who to blame.  
4. Had a SERIOUS run in with the American temperature thing yesterday. Our nurse's thermometer runs on Fahrenheit while I use Celsius. You can see where this is going. The nurse told me I had a temperature of 103.3, I nearly had a heart attack, yadda yadda yadda. Just so you know 20C is a normal body temp. in Celsius so you can understand why I went ape. XD So that's why I use Celsius in this story. ;)**

**Love and hugs to Logan Henderson Is Mine, mandy124, xBleepblapbloopx a person-a paper-a promise, , chanson, Cooperbear22, 2 kool to spell kool right, Musiclovesbest, MiSs-vIcToRy96 and the awesome CheekyBrunette! You all rock my socks! **

**And remember this story is made of blur. Ha! And this compound blur in it too. Blur is very dangerous. You don't wanna mix blur with blur.**

**Elli x**


	10. Chapter 10: Breathe

...  
Breathe  
...

_Just breathe, Logan, breathe. In and out. In and out. In and out. _Logan hammered his fists on the door, again and again, begging for the door to open, even if it was to the hell hole that he had just come from. Anything bet the darkness and the feeling that the walls were slowly closing in on him. He felt crushed. He needed room to breathe. He needed to breathe and soon. His chest hurt. His throat burned. His limbs felt broken. His face was frozen. Air. He needed air. Oh God. He needed out. Now. Out, out, out, out. Out into the air and the normal oxygen filled atmosphere. The walls were too tight. Logan felt as if his arms were pinned to his sides, his legs weren't strong enough to hold him up as he slid down the wall facing the door and he felt as if he was blind. All he say was black. Black, black, black. Nothing was there but the dark. The dark crept into his mind and played with his thoughts. They made it seem like he was going to die. He was certain he was going to die. He couldn't breathe. His lungs couldn't, wouldn't, move. Air wasn't moving around his lungs. His nose felt full of cotton wool. He braced, head between his knees and tried to breathe and tried, tried, tried but the air didn't want to come. He panicked, felt the panic rise above his chest and head, felt it hammering round his head like he was being beaten round the head with multiple sledgehammers. This was worse than the torture, he didn't know what was going to happen. When he was with his father, he could pinpoint what was going to happen pretty easily but in here, it was impossible. Anything could happen. Anything. And that scared Logan. It scared the living crap out of him.

...

Kendall was still staring into space. James was pacing wildly, sometimes stopping to look at the phone or at the two other boys but he still kept pacing. Carlos just watched James pace and swear at Logan's father. He too was cursing Logan's father but he did it in his head and used much more...interesting language. Half the stuff Carlos was thinking he did know could be used as a curse but hey, it stopped him from attacking someone or a wall or...no. He wouldn't, couldn't attack his precious swirly slide. That was like attacking Logan. He could do it so easily but the knowledge of the guilt that would follow him would eat his insides and burn them to a crisp. Carlos turned back to Kendall.  
"Kendall. Come on, talk to me. OK? Can you do that?" Kendall's eyes flickered and he looked up as if he had just woken up.  
"James. Kendall's...recovering." He didn't really know how else to put it without worrying Kendall because most of the time, he didn't remember all this happening. All he would remember was talking to Logan on the phone and then, "waking up" beside Carlos in the flat.  
"Carlitos? What's going on? Did I fall asleep? What time is it? Where..."  
"Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah, woah, woah. OK. Yes, Kendall, you fell asleep. It's half three right now and where's who now?" Carlos tried to diffuse Kendall's panic in the only way he could, by making a little joke and making Kendall smile softly.  
"I guess I was a little bit..."  
"Manic? Nuts? Bananas? Did you realize how many of the crazy words are foods? It's weird. Now who are you looking for?" Carlos asked, laughing softly. Kendall laughed and put his hand behind his head.  
"I now this seems weird but I had this crazy dream that Logan had been kidnapped and that he had just called the flat. Weird, right? So where is Logan? Carlos? Carlos, it was a dream, right?" Carlos had turned away from Kendall, hiding his face as a few stray tears fell down his face. Kendall just stared and then just bent his head and hid his face. Oh God, this couldn't be happening. It just couldn't. It wasn't right. Logan had to be OK. It was Logan who needed to make things right. He just did. It was the Logan Law. He needed to do all his homework, he had to try (and often fail) to fix things in Kendall's plans and to be OK and bounce back from anything. A knock on the door awakened Carlos from his daydream. The door opened and Officer Garcia entered into the flat with his brown bag and Carlos attacked him, hugging his father around the waist as Officer Garcia stood in the doorway with a slightly shocked expression. He soon recovered and slowly embraced his son and started whispering calming gibberish as Carlos sobbed softly into his chest.  
"It's OK, Carlos. It will be OK. Calm down. Shush..." Officer Garcia just smoothed his son's hair gently as Kendall and James just joined in the hug. Officer Garcia was their life raft and they hung on for dear life.

...

Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, Oh God. It was too small. Too small, way too small. Logan could barely breathe and he needed to breathe so much. Air. Air was good. There wasn't any air in this deep dark room. If you could call it a room. Room suggested a place to move. There was no way he could move in this tiny cupboard to hell. You've heard of Narnia? Well then this was the cupboard to Logan's personal hell. His arms couldn't move. He had tried making his mind wander again but the dank tendrils of the room just kept pulling his thought down to the room. Into the cold, cold, stone walled, wet streaked room. Logan couldn't talk anymore, couldn't yell, couldn't scream, couldn't cry out for help. Logan's eyes were wide as a black hole and as dark as the night. His brain shouted and screamed and begged for anyone, even his father to come and save him. His panic rose and so did the quickness if his unconscious breathing. Then a bright light shone as the door opened and a small box was opened (he could hear the click) and a soft scurrying filled the air. Logan leapt to his feet, bashing his shoulders off the tight walls. Rats. He winced as the memories of medieval torture of rats being digested and eating the insides of the poor person who was forced to them inserted into his stomach. Logan blanched as he felt one rats scurry over his foot. He pushed himself up the wall and tried not to panic as he was crushed against the walls as he was pressed away from the rats on the floor. He looked down to see dozens of little reflective eyes looking up at him. He couldn't last a lot longer.

...

Officer Garcia looked at the computer screen in shock. The chip in Logan's mobile was still intact which meant that Logan's phone was still intact. A shock went through his body. David Mitchell wanted them to find Logan. Dead or alive, it was anyone's guess. Dead was a lot more viable now. Officer Garcia dipped his head into his hands. This was all too much now. They were all in too deep. Not to mention this was all wrong. Why would that evil psychopath of a father lead them straight to Logan unless...Officer Garcia was disgusted. He was going to kill Logan alright...but he wanted an audience.

...

**Ok, Ok. I know this was REALLY short but give me some credit. I was ill today and yesterday so my brain was all sore but that didn't stop me from making this chapter just for you peoples! Isn't dat ****true dedication? Even if it's a tad short. ;)**

**This reminds me of my old skeleton. ****I'll always miss my old skeleton. It's too bad. He got his head blown off…with a Mannlicher-Carcano rifle.**

**Elli x**


	11. Chapter 11: Unreal

...  
Unreal  
...

This was all wrong. Why would that evil psychopath want to lead them straight to Logan unless...Officer Garcia was disgusted. He wanted to kill Logan...with an audience. This had never happened before to Officer Garcia. It happened to another man on the force but afterwards...he had to leave. Carlos Garcia Snr had seen the look on that man's face the first time he had been on a crime scene was terrifying. The uncontained look of fear. The look that shouldn't ever be on anyone's face. It wasn't just the facial expression; the eyes...his dark blue eyes were just full of panic and pain. He didn't want to be the same as him. He didn't want to have to see the horror reflecting in his eyes every day. He didn't want to be a shade. A shade of the man he was. Have the pitying looks constantly following him. The constant questions, the nightmares that haunted his former partner. Officer Garcia had almost been on patrol that day but it had been Kendall's birthday and he had to ask the chief to re-schedule his patrol, with he did, having children himself. Officer Garcia was extremely glad of that fact. Imagine if he had come home and couldn't smile at his children. Couldn't look at Alisa, Josef, Gabriella or little Carlos who was only five at the time without seeing their faces instead of the victim lying in the floor, blood sliding down from their chest. Carlos Garcia Senior let his head droop onto his desk. Now it was Logan. He didn't deserve all this shit. He was a smart, kind, funny and like a son to him. He never differentiated between his treatment to Carlos or any of the other boys. They were at each other's house so much, the parents of the child never thought twice about making double the amount of food to serve the three extra mouths at the table. The boys were all alike even if the looks didn't reflect this. From the dark haired Carlos and Logan to the lighter James and Kendall, the range of differences was immense. But still...the similarities were over powering. The same sense of right or wrong, the same mischievous look that made all parents around them look for the phone...to call 999 and the same sense of brotherhood. They were brothers. Family is not defined by blood ties but by actions. Carlos Garcia had often heard his father tell him this and had often repeated it to his own children including the youngest Carlos Garcia of the family. Officer Garcia sighed. He was getting old. He wasn't ready for this. His bones felt weary. He stretched his arms behind him. He needed to find Logan then...then he could rest.

...

Logan Mitchell was currently scaled half way up a wall, in an enclosed closet. With at least half a dozen rats. Make that a dozen. This sounded like one of those tales who told kids to scare them into not doing something. _And remember kids! If you're good, you would end up like Logan Mitchell, stuck in a stone walled room with rats. _Yeah. What was it with God and Logan? Did they have a massive disagreement early or something? Jeez. Well, _someone_ wasn't hugged enough as a child. God had it in for poor Logie. This was annoying. God seemed to like pissing off James, glaring at Kendall's attempt's at everything, mess most of Carlos things up and torture Logan. Sooo not fair. Especially when you see the posh toffs who get everything, paid for by Daddy dearest. It made Logan sick thinking that they got all the luck while thousands of people in Africa were dying. Logan had to study African Countries in Modern Studies and was disgusted at the mass divide. The rich and the poor were so different in lifestyle, Logan vowed to help. He fundraised with Kendall, Carlos and James. James did sponsored "non hair-care products day". He almost died but made a lot of money. Carlos did a sponsored silence while Kendall and Logan organized a hockey tournament costing £5 to enter in. The whole group raised a lot of money and helped a lot of people. But still, God wasn't happy with this either. Well, he laid off the others but ramped up the abuse on Logan. Not. Fair. Now Logan was stuck in this...cramped...stuffy...small...oh bullsugar. Panic rose through Logan, locking his limbs in place. He literally couldn't will himself to move. He was stuck. Well and truly.  
"Well...it didn't think it was humanly possible but this both sucks and blows." The Simpsons quote dashing around his head. Then the door opened and Logan started for around a 32nd of second then hurled himself out of the hell hole which was actually a cupboard. Well, who knew? His father looked down at Logan in disgust.  
"Couldn't even last 2 hours, Little Logan? Pathetic." He aimed a kick at his ribs, ignoring Logan's gasps and splutters for sweet, sweet air. The more he got the better. His lungs expanded for the first time in an hour and a half. Air equals breathing which in turn equals life. And Logan needed as much as that as he could get his hands on.

...

Kendall Knight was currently in his room, sitting on his bed and look to Logan's side of the room. It was clean and the bed was made neatly. His teddy lay stuffed under the bed. He had had it for a long time but had never even thought of getting rid of it. It was much too precious. It was like Carlos getting rid of his helmet. It was a big no no. His book case was stacked with medical books and large novels. The books he normally read stood out with the dog eared pages and the fold marks down the spine. His Harry Potter series that Noelle had sent over from the time she went to London stood on the top shelf without the marks but was obviously read a lot because of the curious fact that no matter what one of them was always missing. Today it was The Order of the Phoenix. Kendall had spotted it in the living room. Kendall had never read much at all. Logan was a regular bookworm and was never happier in the living room with his friends around him and reading a book or from his Kindle. It was a Logan thing to do. Logan's skates and hockey stick lay at the end of his bed on top of his set of drawers. His IPod docking station sat there as well with a few CDs stacked around it. A book that Kendall had never seen before lay on his bedside table. Kendall reached over and picked up the red leather book. He flicked through and stopped and smiled. It was a picture book, filled with the little snapshots from their lives. A picture of all four of them when they were younger (they were at least ten, because Mrs Cameron was in the next picture over) at a theme park somewhere with Carlos pointing at everything munching on candyfloss, James chasing after Kendall who had just stolen something, most likely his comb and Logan running ahead laughing getting ready to catch the comb when Kendall threw it to him. Kendall looked at the picture carefully. Logan wasn't covered in bruises but a slight purple tinge on his upper left arm was just visible. Kendall looked slightly pained at the thought of such an innocent memory tainted by a different memory. One of pain and abuse. Yet Logan just seemed to forget about it all. It wasn't on his mind. In fact, Kendall could ever remember Logan ever talking about his childhood in anyway. Maybe if Logan had been more open...he could be saved. He could have been protected. Kendall needed Logan. He needed his little brother. He needed his conscience right beside him, telling him that it would be OK. Now Kendall had no one to catch him. Carlos had James and James had Carlos. Kendall loved them both but he and Logan were closer in the same way James and Carlos were closer. It had always been that way and no one ever complained. They realized that Kendall needed his little brother but they couldn't go find him. Yet. No, not yet...

...

Logan lay on the floor trying to recover from the beating he had just received. His chest hurt. His arms hurt. His legs hurt. His neck hurt. His face hurt. Everything just burned. All his nerves were raw and painful. He lay on his back, trying to ignore the pain erupting from his back from the deep slashes that had been etched into his skin. His father had reopened new scars, mentally because physically "where was the fun in attacking dead nerves" was David Mitchell's exact words. He wondered how much more he could last. "Not much longer" was what he decided on as a distinct shape of a tazer came into the edge of his vision and he braced himself quickly.

...

**Mwhahaha! That's all! ;) Love to my reviewers: Logan Henderson Is Mine, a paper-a person-a promise, mandy124, xBleepblapbloopx , chanson, Cooperbear22, 2 kool to spell "kool" right, Musiclovesbest, MiSs-vIcToRy96, squoctobird and CheekyBrunette whom I love cos she always leaves me nice big reviews! XD You guys rock! Seriously! Yes, a Mannlicher-Carcano rifle! Add this up- Me, Cassandra, Monster Energy Drink, a Mannlicher-Carcano rifle, Shannon's Babyshams and my old skeleton. Not a nice number as Miss Walker my maths teacher would say.**

**I'm so badass that ****I reject your reality, and substitute my own!**

**Elli x**


	12. Chapter 12: Barely

...  
Barely 

Logan thought the small of his back was on fire. The tazer dug into his back, zapping his nerves, deep, deep down. His instinct kicked in, not knowing what to do. He tried to flinch and get away but the muscle spasms made this pretty impossible. Not to mention his father was standing right behind him which was terrifying in its self. Logan couldn't get away, he was trapped and his brown eyes filled with terror. Then the feeling lifted but Logan couldn't relax because he knew that it wouldn't last. Just to rectify his glum premonition, David Mitchell cruelly dug the instrument of torture into the back of his neck. Logan arched his back and _screamed_, not listening to his father's deep bellowing maniacal laugh ringing around the empty room. He thought if he could last just a little longer, then he could be OK. He could live, he could survive if he didn't show weakness to his father. If only, if only, if only. His father did all this torture for only one reason, to get payment for Cassandra's death. The reactions he got from Logan were just helping him and letting him feel some sick sort of satisfaction. David Mitchell crouched in front of Logan, showing the tazer in front of his face.  
"I could turn this to drive, you know. I could make you go to sleep. Knock up unconscious. Doesn't it sound nice?" Honestly at this point in time, falling into unconsciousness sound perfectly blissful to Logan. "But...I'm not going to. You know why? Cos I like watching your little face screw up in pain. I like watching you squirm and scream and I positively love it when you beg. Beg, little Logan. Beg to be put to sleep like the useless dog you are." Logan gasped, barely lifting his head and shook it gently. His father screamed at not getting the reaction he wanted, he wanted his son to beg for forgiveness not that he would give it and kicked Logan onto his back and pressed the tazer which was on Stun into Logan's stomach. Logan's limbs closed around his stomach, trying and trying to pull the electrical machine away from his chest. His father easily pushed his thin arms away.  
"This is what it felt like when that Hispanic bastard got me in the back. Do you remember that, Logan? I got my hands around your neck and I was this close...this close to just closing my hand completely and watching you simply stop moving. You were close in the court that day but Officer Garcia got me. It hurts, doesn't it, Logan. Doesn't it!" David screamed as Logan twisted and turn quickly, stopping himself from screaming out for help or mercy. He wasn't going to get it. Not here, not from him. There was no way. His father...his _father_ if you could even call him that, was the most unmerciful bastard in this world. Then, the tazer's prongs disappeared. Logan still lay on his back, not daring to get up. He didn't want to give David bloody Mitchell any reason to attack even more. A deep set pain shocked Logan out of his reverie. He screamed and tried to pull his left arm away from the tight vice-like grip of his father's fist.  
"Ready for some acupuncture, Little Logan. I'm not trained but how hard can it be?" His father laughed, grabbing another needle and reveling in Logan's pained screams and panicked attempts at pulling away. It wasn't going to happen. Logan will die. It didn't matter to David how long it took. At the moment, he was just enjoying the present.

...

James Diamond couldn't believe what he had just heard. Who could be that sick minded? Who could actually even think of murdering their own flesh and blood, their own child for some demented payment? Logan didn't deserve this. No one did, but especially not the tiny, sweet, kind, funny, smart boy that they had become so protective over. Logan's father was going to..._kill_ Logan but he wanted the other boys to see. Who does that? What type of psychopath does that sort of thing? It's just wrong. Just wrong. James ran his fingers through his hair, mussing it up. He didn't care. It was hair, it could be fixed. Logan couldn't. If Logan was hurt much too badly, there was no special product that could fix up his body in a few minutes. Logan would need hours, days, months to be Logan again. He needed to be Logan again. James needed his Logan. His little friend to say "Don't do it" and "It's OK". Logan was the shoulder to cry on. The day James found out his grandma died, he didn't think about where he was going, he just ended up outside the Cameron's house. Logan didn't need to hear what had happened, he simply wrapped his arms around James and whispered calming words into his ears. James had cried, screamed, hugged, talked and reminisced to his heart's content that day and Logan sat through it all, offering a few questions, making juice, bring food and letting his friend pour out his heart. He knew how much it hurt to lose someone and how it hurt a lot more when nobody cared or listened to you, even when you tried your hardest to be heard. Logan had helped James. He needed someone to help him now.

Kendall Knight couldn't believe what he had just heard. That son of a bitch was going to wish he wasn't born when Kendall got through with him. David Mitchell was a dead man walking. Kendall was known to have some issues with anger. If you even looked at Logan, James or Carlos the wrong way, prepare for a world of hurt. Nobody messes with Kendall Knight's family, extended or not. Kendall remembered the day when he had found out that Logan had been bullied at their old secondary school in Minnesota. Kendall had actually turned on those freaks. Logan had been on the ground in the hockey rink changing rooms with Jack Robins and Kyle Foster leering over him, shouting obscenities at him because they had got taken out of the team for checking Logan too hard. Logan had literally bounced off the boards. Now he was lying on the ground, curling himself up, trying to ignore those memories of childhood budding around his brain. Jack and Kyle had to back off as Kendall gave them a monster glare as he gently picked up Logan. Logan was bleeding from his mouth, not from some horrendous injury but by biting through his tongue in fear. This had just caused Kendall to explode and he threw the punches into those two bullies. At one point, Logan had leapt behind Kendall, trying to stop him from doing something he would regret and got elbowed in the stomach. Kendall had never forgiven himself for that. Now someone else was going to hurt Logan. That wasn't going to go unpunished if Kendall had his way. He clenched his fists tightly.

Carlos Garcia couldn't believe what he had just heard. Logan's father was just going to...No. he couldn't. I was wrong. You don't kill people like that. Carlos' mind just couldn't comprehend the thought of someone going out of their way to kill Logan. It was wrong. Logan was too nice. He tried to help people all the time. Whenever Carlos did bad in a test, Logan always offered to help. It didn't matter that Logan's homework load was huge because of the set of classes he was tested into, he always tried to help. Logan was the security blanket, the bungee cord. Whenever something went downhill fast, Logan did everything in his power to fix it. Logan just always did that type of thing. Now someone was planning to kill him. His father was planning to kill him. A dad shouldn't plot murder, a dad was supposed to take you out for treats with your friends. A dad was meant to give you a hug when you were down. A proper dad was supposed to be there for you when you needed him, no matter how stupid or trivial the situation. David Mitchell was none of these things. David Mitchell didn't deserve to be called a father.

...

Kelly Wainwright was lost. This had never happened before and quite frankly, she was scared. She was terrified for the boys she had came to love like nephews. One was missing and most likely, in pain and there was nothing she could do to help. The other three must have been inconsolable. She knew that without one member of their little group, the others fell apart at the seams. She had had to watch it all happen once before when Logan had been in hospital for a few days because of a particularly bad bug and had to be kept in for supervision. They knew Logan was fine but still, James worried, Kendall snapped at everyone and Carlos lost his bounce. It was disheartening to see, those three energetic boys lifeless and worrying. They were 16 in LA! They should have been enjoying life to the full not sitting around in a sound booth, worrying about their friend. Gustavo had seen this too and had sent them home early, showing that he did have a heart under all that bravado. But now, they couldn't be helped by letting them off practise. Kelly absentmindedly picked up and sorted out a few pieces of paper. She hadn't noticed that she had gone through those same papers at least tren times before. She needed some sort of normalicity after all the shock. Gustavo couldn't stand seeing his normally happy (sometimes...more often than not unhinged) assistant in such a shaken loop. He placed a hand on her shoulder and looked into her tear filled eyes. He slowly reached and took away the papers.  
"I think they have been sorted enough." Gustavo said softly. Kelly's eye over filled and she rested her chest on Gustavo's chest. Gustavo was shocked at first but after a minute or two he wrapped his arms around the shaken woman.  
"It will be OK. They've never failed me yet and they aren't going to start down."

...

Mrs Knight couldn't stand conflicts. The current civil war in Libya just made her blood boil. The people fighting had the same home in that country. Those people probably knew each other and now they were gunning each other down. Sure, the rest of the world might be trying to solve the conflict but what could they do? Invading would stop the stupid war but it would also cost such a large amount of lives. Lives were fickle things; you needed them, they could be easily taken away and when they are, a family mourns. During 9/11, Mrs Knight thought nothing of letting her tears run down her face as she thought of the poor people trapped within and the poor souls of the rescuers that had to go through that wreckage to find the dead people and extinguish a family's bright hope. There was no way she could do that. Mrs Knight was more of a fund raiser. Katie had to have gotten her money making skills for somewhere, right? Conflicts. The boys were like victims of a war. They could believe it had happened and that no one had stopped it from happening. It was wrong, in their minds, that Logan was gone. It was wrong. The boy didn't deserve this. And his father intended to kill him in front of people? Who did that? Not even psychopaths did that. Serial killers murdered for recognition but this was deeper. This deep rooted hatred...that taken over Mr David Mitchell. No one could talk him off this ledge. He intended to push Logan off it just to make sure it was lethal.

...

**WOOOO! Welcome one and all to Elli's Deathbed. Yes. I'm dying. It's the terrible disease known as...homeworkitus. It when you fail at home work and the teacher parasites attack your defence systems...like your limbs. It seems to be a requirement at my school to either be an alcoholic or an escapee from a mental institute. Yeah. I'm not kidding. Guess which one I am! I'll give you a clue! It starts with IA. ;) This chapter was going to be longer but Oliver decided that he was going to be an UTTER DOUCHE *hint hint Oliver* and not let me save the long version. So this is the shorten version and now I must go write up the other half and add bits and...you know...authory stuff! Love to all my reviews, reader and people who put me on their Alerts list. You have no idea how much I love it when the notifications in my inbox are filled up! Oh! I have also been asked by mother to say I'm not being abused by my parents and all this stuff is from my own messed up brain. She even quoted BTR with the "I never dropped you once!" line. XD  
Just saw the King's Speech and seriously, it makes me proud to be British! Wooo!**

**Not only do we get to short out a battery, but we get to do it in a gasoline-rich environment! I can't think of a better way to spend a Monday afternoon. God, I love my Chem class sometimes. **

**Elli x**


	13. Chapter 13: Panic

...  
Panic  
...

Kendall, Carlos and James were currently in the back of Officer Garcia's police cruiser and weren't talking. They were going to rescue Logan. Hopefully. But this wasn't a sure fire fool proof plan. It basically consisted of running into the warehouse were Logan and the arse (Otherwise known as David Mitchell) were, re-kidnapping Logan, taking him to a hospital, bringing him home to the Palmwoods then never, ever, ever letting him out of their sight again. At least that was Kendall's plan. The others could make up their own paln as long as Kendall's worked nicely. Kendall liked plans. They were structured, easy to follow. You didn't guess or improvise, you followed the plan. When people improvised, things went horribly wrong for the four friends. It was basically law. Kendall made up the plan, Logan fine tuned and made... "adjustments" to the plan. Carlos didn't understand the plan except the bare basics and James just smiled and nodded, going along with it regardless. But now, Kendall's plans kept falling apart. Except for this basic plan. The basics seem to work he guesses. Kendall rests his head on the cool glass of the window. He watched the LA buildings zoom by, blurring into one big metallic blob sitting on the pavement. Kendall hated being uncertain. He like knowing things for definite. And now? Now, things were totally on Lady Luck's shoulders. And she seemed to have serious issues in co-operating with the four kind, mischievous boys from Minnesota. But still. He could hope. Hope was something that his mother had told him could solve wars. Hope was something that could make a blind man smile and dream of beautiful paintings. Hope was something that could lead the missing home. Hope was something that could make a homeless man dream of living in a little house with a family. Hope was something magical. He remembered the story of Pandora's box. He remembered sitting on the floor in school and listening to Mr Cooper (the unanimous best teacher in the school) telling them about the woman who had opened the box and all the dreadful things in the hope had escaped. But in all that deep, deep hate there was a light. The light of the world. Hope. No matter how bad things get you always have hope. Yet, now Kendall found it hard to keep up this hope. Hope seemed imaginary and rare in the last few days. Now though, he saw a tiny glimmer of it. The hope that they were going to save Logan. Save Logan from his father. Now Kendall sat hoping. Hoping, hoping, hoping. Hoping for a miracle. Miracles could happen. His grandpa had recovered from a brain tumour that had made everyone think it was the end of the road for him but he had living for at least another 3 years. His mother had cried and hugged Kendall, saying that it was a miracle. That God had decided that the Knight family needed their grandpa for a little while longer. Which they did. Kendall hoped that God realised that they still needed Logan.

...

Logan Mitchell was in pain. You know when your hands are so cold during the winter, they have a cold burning inside them? Well multiply that by ten and you got minuscule bit of the pain that Logan was feeling at this moment. His father had left him, thank god. Unfortunately, his father had not taken the needles out of Logan's arm, which he had been left lying on in that cold cell of a room, back or legs. So he was lying on the floor, feeling the sharp points digging into his limbs, prodding further into his skin. Logan hadn't spoken in hours and his voice had started failing him. He couldn't cry out for help because no one, not even dogs, would be able to hear his rasping whispers. Logan was trapped even more. He couldn't scream out his frustrations. He couldn't shout out when he had to move. He couldn't cry out as his father whispered cruel vicious words into his ears. Logan slowly started feeling the skin of his lower left arm as he rolled onto his front, hissing mentally as the needles in his legs dug in harder. He would take the legs over his back though. He had at least 2 full packets of twenty five needles in his back alone. That would be the equivalent of setting his back on fire on the pain scale. He felt the smooth head of a needle imbedded in his arm and closed his eyes (it didn't make much difference as the room was so dark) and pulled the needle out in one swift movement. Logan discovered he did have a voice because he was using it very efficiently by screaming out in the cool dark room. After he had regained his composure, he had to screw up his eyes and search of the next needle. Logan had at least one hundred needles imbedded in his skin. Make that ninety nine counting the one he had just yanked out of his now tender arm. Logan wished he was dreaming as he did when he was a child but this was no dream. This was a living breathing nightmare. He felt as if he should be watching his current situation on the TV with Carlos, James and Kendall late at night and having popcorn wars. Kendall and Logan would be laughing at the fail special effects. James would be going "ick ick ick" at the sight of the blood riveting down "TV" Logan's arms and Carlos would be hiding underneath a pillow. Logan missed his friends. He missed Mrs Knight. He missed Katie. He missed his parents, the Camerons. He missed Noelle. He missed the Palmwoods residents. Heck, he even missed Gustavo and Kelly. Being stuck in this hell hole of a room with only his father as company had made Logan thankful for everything. He would never take the sun in the sky for granted again. Water was a unheard of thing here. Don't even mention showers. Logan had only had tiny scraps of food since he was kidnapped a day ago. Possibly. He couldn't tell and that was probably one of the scariest things, oddly enough. Not being able to tell the time, a normal thing most people did multiple times each day. He was a victim of abuse and had been stripped of his sense of normalcy. He never thought it was possible to lose it.

...

The white and blue police car sped through the sunny city of LA. The heat of the summer's day didn't change the three friend's icy moods. James Diamond was sitting in between Carlos and Kendall listening to his IPod trying to stop the horrific (and probably accurate) visions of Logan's torture. He had always hated seeing Logan walk and limp on occasion to school, covered in cuts and bruises. The thick ones near his throat always scared James the most. Once, he could remember Logan sitting in front of him in class and watching in horror as Logan had turned and the scab had split. Blood sluggishly fell from the deep cut on the side of his neck and James had shouted out this fact. Logan had blushed softly, raised his hand whilst placing the other on his bleeding cut to ask to be excused. The teacher, Mrs Harding, had asked if he wanted to go to the nurse's office but Logan had looked terrified at the prospect and stammered that he would be fine. Now James realises that Logan probably didn't want to go to the nurse's because his father had threatened him with some awful action to scare him away from telling people what had actually happened. James felt finding Mr Mitchell, tearing his limbs off and giving them to scientists to conduct their most gruesome, most disgusting and most painful experiments on his live, feeling parts. And then he would interrogate Logan and get the details of every torturous minute he put Logan through and replicate it. Vividly. James hated all this. Hated how Kendall had changed from a happy, crazy guy into a quiet, withdrawn and nervous person. Hated how Carlos had "misplaced" all his happy, bouncy energy and had found a depressed and sombre attitude instead. Katie wasn't the same cynical, money making, smart kid she was a few days ago. It made James feel sick that one twisted demented guy had done so much damage. Not to mention Logan's damage. All the physical and mental damage would be following him around like a ghost, constantly after him, haunting him, reminding him of what he desperately tried to forget. The others had tried to help Logan lighten the load by making him talk but Logan had always clammed up and pushed them away except for a few moments. James remembered when Logan had opened up a tiny bit of his pain to him. James had been sitting at the orange sofa late one night, trying to revise for a history test the next morning when he say Logan stumble out of his room, gasping for breath and white as a sheet.  
"Loge? You OK?" Logan hadn't responded and had just walked down the swirly slide. He walked over and sat beside James, trembling.  
"Nightmare. My Dad...he cut me. All up my arms. I couldn't make it stop bleeding..." The sad thing was James knew that it wasn't just a dream. It probably happened. James still remembered Logan's pale face and his scared face. James was scared for Logan. Very scared.

...

Logan lay still on the floor, needles all removed and started as his father strode quickly into the cell.  
"Get up." Logan sat stating at his father and yelped as he was dragged to his feet by his very tender arm. Logan winced as the cool ring of a gun rested against his left temple and he was turned to face the door.  
"If you even move a muscle, I will shot you and everyone else in the room." Logan's deprived brain couldn't make sense of the odd request. There was no one in the room apart from himself and his father...unless...there was going to be someone else in the room. Oh God. His father knew that his friends were going to be there. Oh no. Oh no no no no NOO.  
"Heh, you understand, boy?" Logan nodded quickly, ignoring the distinct smell of alcohol in his father's breath. The door burst open and Officer Garcia and his three friends ran into the dank room that had become Logan's prison.  
"Oh God, Logie. Oh my..." Kendall started but he couldn't find the words. Logan was bleeding. A lot. From various places. His face was dominated by one huge deep gash across his left cheek. His arms were bruised and were covered in tiny bleeding pin pricks. His top hung loosely from his small frame. Two days. This had happened in two days and they probably hadn't seen all of it.  
"You abusive bastard!" Kendall tried to lunge but froze when Mr Mitchell cocked the handgun pointed at Logan's head. A horrible calm washed over Logan. How many times had his father pointed a loaded gun at him? Too many, in the high thirties. How many times had he been shot? 3. All during the summer holidays so he would have time to "heal" before the people at school noticed. Logan was sick of being threatened but the fear held him in place.  
"Ah ah ahh. Don't want to do anything too...impulsive." Mr Mitchell quickly lowered the gun and shoot Logan in the foot. Logan screamed and has on the floor, cradling his injured foot. The red blood rushing between his fingers seemed sickeningly familiar in the last two days. Logan cringed at the red hot burn in his foot as his friends panicked.  
"I...I'm f-fine guys. Really. It's not the first time it's happened." David Mitchell frowned and pulled his son up to his feet, ignoring the scream that made the other occupants of the room wince as Logan's foot made contact to the stone floor, none to softly either.  
Mr Mitchell laughed and diverted his attention to the police officer in front of him. His first mistake although he only needed to make one. The officer had the gun away from the psycho, handcuffs on and was already phoning the ambulance and the LA police department.  
"It's going to be OK, boys..." he said reassuringly as the three boys clustered around the fallen and wounded teenager.  
"Logie? Logie, stay awake." This reminded Logan eerily of the day he fainted at Roccque Records. It all seemed so nice and simple then. But Logan couldn't stay awake. Blood loss was getting to him and his eyes were drooping from weeks of sleepless nights taking their toll.  
Logan was falling asleep.  
"Logie? Logan? No! Don't! LOGAN!" Someone's voice called out, he couldn't identify those. All he felt then was his eyes gently shut and he was free of pain, finally, after two days of utter hell.

...

**Bwhahahahaha. Ha. Y'ello! Tis I, the crazy Scottish Lady!**

** mIsS-vIcToRy96: Mehahahaha. I didn't watch scary movies as a kid although I loved Robot Wars, war films and Shaun of the Dead. I was an odd child. Oliver (who has calmed down and isn't being such a prick anymore) is my laptop whom I named after my cousin.  
CheekyBrunette: You didn't read my torture part as carefully! ((dies))** Nah. **Just kiddin'. And I wouldn't kill Logie...yet. Even if he has been rescued, doesn't mean I finished with the torture...:D - - Dat's my evil genius face.**

**Anyone else feel like an evil genius?**

**Elli x **


	14. Chapter 14: Sterile

...  
Sterile  
...

This wasn't the nice clean smell. This was the hospital smell not the nice freshly washed bed sheet smell of Logan's room back at the Palmwoods. James didn't like this smell. It was too...clean. Sterile. There was no warmth, no comfort. It was just clean, clean, clean. James didn't want to touch anything in case the clean was tainted and the nurses had to coming in with their cleaning sprays and make James' head feel even more dizzy. Antiseptic might save lives but it stinks. Logan had told him that after having to go with Carlos to get a wound washed out. The two other boys would have gone with Carlos and Logan but Kendall has sick and James...well, James doesn't like blood. Blood smelt all horrible and coppery and icky. James has terrified of blood. He had fainted once before because of blood. He couldn't watch films that had a blood and gore scene. Heck, he couldn't even watch any doctor programmes half the time. Despite all this loathing for the red coppery substance, here James was with a needle sticking out of his arm, giving blood. James thought he would be dead or dying before someone could get him to do this. But Logan was low on blood. He needed a transfusion. James had the same blood type. So he had sucked it up and asked the doctor who had said that wasn't a problem and here he was sitting in a tiny room with a nurse taking some blood out his arm.  
"There. Finished." She smiled up at the boy, giving him a sympathetic look when she saw how pale his face had gotten. She picked up a small sticky plaster and smoothed it over the tiny indentation on James' arm. James sighed a sigh of relief and flexed his arm experimentally. It stung slightly but no more than getting a booster shot. He slid of the bed, cursing the annoying crackly paper the doctors put on those beds and thanked the nurse.  
"You might want to eat something sugary. It helps sometimes." The nurse smiled. James grinned back softly and turned eager to get back to where ever Logan was. He looked around the hospital and realised it was the same hospital where they went after they found out Logan had been stabbed. Fate is a bitch sometimes. He could easily see the waiting room they sat in when Logan was getting stitches and the area behind the table where James and Carlos had had the dinosaur war of dooooom. James smiled. That was just a few days ago but it felt like a lifetime away. Logan was fine back then but now James was scared to see him. In case he freaked out. In case he panicked and had to run away. In case he was terrified by his best friend. He didn't want Logan to see if he was frightened. James sat in the soft chair and looked out the window. It was raining. Raining in LA. It had gotten dark too. James hadn't noticed all this. It was weird, not noticing the hours pass and the light fade. James' hair fell over his face as he ducked his head. James was just sitting in the waiting room on his own when a hand landed on his shoulder. Mrs Knight.  
"James, honey, you shouldn't bottle everything up like this. We can listen you know. I can listen." The smiling woman sat beside James who leaned his head on her shoulder.  
"It's just...I'm scared. I'm scared that I wouldn't be able to look at him properly. That I'll see a really sick person instead of our Logan. I remember when he had a panic attack at the flat once. He had dropped something and made Kendall yell out. Logan went really really quiet and his eyes got big. He started murmuring about staying away, being really sorry and that he didn't what to be hurt. His nails had started peeling away the skin on his hands because he was so scared. He could see us, he saw his dad with a knife apparently because he was saying something about not the knife again. I scared me more than I ever thought it would. I hate this! I hate being scared all the time. I hate Kendall and Carlos and Katie and everyone being so scared for Logan all the time. I wonder how Logan feels, being the centre of attention. He never liked being in the spotlight. He liked hiding and just standing in when he needed to. Now, his name is everywhere. Eventually the newspapers are going to get a hold of this and Logan wouldn't be able to go on the street without seeing all those pitiful faces or horrible jeers. He will just clam up for a while, not leaving the flat apart from going to Rocque Records and no one wants to see him like that. I just wish..."  
"That you could make it all go away?" Mrs Knight asked, encircling her brunette "adopted" son. James nodded slowly, cresting his tear stained face on Mrs Knight's shoulder as she whispered soft reassurances.

...

Logan awoke momentarily. He heard a soft beeping. Heart monitor. Urgh. Why was there a heart monitor? The beep beep beeping was so annoying. Beep. Beep. Beep. It was...ugh! Seriously, who decided that heart monitors had to have such annoying beeping noises? Probably some sadist. Honestly. Logan dwelled on what could possibly be happening to him that put him in a hospital when he heard a door squeak open. The heavy foot falls of someone tall and the squeak of a pair of trainers on the lino floor told him it must have been Kendall. Kendall is the only person who stepped in that way, putting all his weight on one foot at a time. Logan couldn't talk properly. His vocal chords just didn't want to work. Couldn't work. So instead he listened.  
"Hey Loges. It's Kendall. I hope you can hear me. I sorry but dude, you look awful. I am so sorry. I wish I could have gotten there faster. I could have gotten to you. I could have gotten to you when he first took you. I just...stood there! I couldn't believe it. God. I watched him pick you up and take you. I just...I couldn't...I wish I could have stopped him. You didn't deserve this. No one deserves this. You're just so hurt now. You have at least a hundred pin pricks covering you. I don't really want to know how you got them but I hope it didn't hurt too much. Who am I kidding, your arsehole of a father probably made sure it hurt. Your foot...it's been all wrapped up. It cleaned up now. You wouldn't die of an infection so you can quit worrying about that. I know you probably were panicking about that. Good news though, your side is all healed up. The doctors took all the stitches out about an hour ago. You don't even have much of a scar there. Logan, I saw your back. Everyone did. It's...Logan, it looks so...I can't find the words. All those scars. God, Logan I wish you had told us earlier. Damn, I wish you had a normal dad. If you were my blood brother, or Carlos' brother or James' brother you would never had all over that pain. Logan, I promise I'll keep you safe from now on. But you have to promise me something. You have to tell me, Carlos or James next time something bothers you. You can't just bottle it all up. Tell us. We wouldn't laugh or ridicule you. We are your friends. It's our jobs to look after you. It's my job more than anyone else has to look after you. You're my little brother. I look after you like I would look after Katie. You're so...little compared to the rest of us. Not just in height but in personality too. You're shy and sweet and funny and an awesome guy. Heh, sweet. You always hated us calling you sweet. But that's what you are. Sweet. You go out of your way to help us and make sure we feel OK after something has happened. Logan, can you promise me something. Just...promise to get better. Promise me that Logan. Nothing else. Just that. Logan we miss you. Seriously. Get better soon, Loges." A pair of warm arms encircled Logan. Logan wished he could talk. He wished he could tell Kendall that it was OK. That it would all be OK. He would get better, he would go back home, that he would go back to being Logan again.

...

Carlos was feeling very...odd. The world wasn't as clear cut as he thought it would be when they found Logan. He couldn't comprehend why Logan's father had such a deep rooted hatred for the small boy. Logan couldn't hurt a fly. Literally. He had tried with a fly swatter but ended up hitting himself in the face so he left the fly be and instead insulted it. Carlos had walked into the kitchen when Logan had just told the fly it would never go to college cos it was a stupid fly. Carlos had asked what the heck Logan had taken but Logan insisted that insults made flies go away and that he didn't have the heart to smosh it. The insults seemed to work because after that the damn bluebottle followed Carlos for the best part of two minutes before he grabbed a frying pan (Logan grabbed it away from Carlos after he had realised what he was going to do with it) then he grabbed a newspaper and killed that damn fly. Logan was a humanitarian. He believed that all beings (except for snakes and poisonous spiders) should have the right to live. When James had almost drowned a tiny black common spider, Logan had sighed, extended his hand and let the tiny arachnid crawl to safety. Logan carefully moved the spider to the window while glaring back at James asking "How would you feel if someone squashed you for being small?" His size had always struck a nerve with Logan. Logan knew he was shorter than most but that didn't mean he hate being reminded of this fact. Size doesn't matter but it still sucks when you can't reach something high up and you have to ask one of your friends to get it for you like you did when you were a kid. Logan hated being an inconvenience to his friends even though he knew that they didn't mind it. Logan didn't want to be a bother because his father had told him he was a bother and a useless piece of space. Logan had believed him because he hadn't ever heard any different until he was friends with Kendall, Carlos and James but still he couldn't figure out that he was actually worth an effort. That he did deserve the best he could get not one of the worst homes a child could ever be placed in. But, it still hurt Carlos that Logan didn't believe how great he was. Carlos shook his head. Ever since this thing had started he had become, what did Logan call it? Deep. That's the word.

...

Kendall left the room happier that he had gotten his feelings out even if Logan couldn't hear him. It still meant a lot to Kendall that Logan knew that people did care about him and that not everyone was as cynical and evil as his father. David Mitchell was currently being held in the LA Police Department for questioning. Officer Garcia had wanted to go along just to "liven things up" as he called it, meaning that Officer Garcia probably wanted to beat the living shit out of Logan's father. Kendall looked in his pocket for his phone but it must have fallen out. Kendall groaned. It must have fallen out in Logan's room. He made his way back up the stairs to Logan's room. As Kendall slid open the door, he froze. What he had been expecting to see was Logan lying in bed with his machine things beeping constantly. What he didn't want to see ever but was standing right in front of him was David Mitchell standing over his son, a knife in one hand and his other hand on the IV drip. The man who looked so alike Logan but was almost his opposite looked up and grinned. Kendall's blood ran icy cold.

**...  
! I 3 torture! ;)  
CheekyBrunette: Noo.  
CheekyBrunette + Torture + BTR in ANY form= One hell of a wild ride.  
LittleMissOops+ Torture + BTR in ANY from= Therapy. Lots of it. **

**I still can't believe you based two stories of my little story! I mean, WOWZA! **

**Love to Logan Henderson Is Mine, a paper-a person-a promise, mandy124, xBleepblapbloopx , chanson, Cooperbear22, 2 kool to spell "kool" right, Musiclovesbest, MiSs-vIcToRy96, squoctobird, femaleodd, Milkamoo97, G.N Affinity-Chan, princessabbie10 and CheekyBrunette.**

**I wouldn't say I'm an evil genius...I'm not sure I'm a genius just yet.**

**Elli x**


	15. Chapter 15: Morphine

...  
Morphine  
...

This was not good. This was very, very, very, very, very not good. Kendall was frozen, staring at David Mitchell standing over the prone boy lying unconscious in the white hospital bed with a large glinting knife. The massive knife was just sitting almost touching, almost piercing the pale skin on Logan's arm. The thin IV line snuck under his pale skin. His IV drip was filled with morphine and antibiotics. But his father was holding the IV line between his fingers and that horrible grin hadn't left his face.  
"Oh, hey...Kendall, right? Catlin Knight's boy. How's your sister, Katie? Gosh, you've grown so much. Last time I saw you, you were just this tall." Mr Mitchell said mockingly, grin plastered on his face. Then it twisted, showing undercurrents of malice and cruelty.  
"Oh but we both know why you're here. To protect my son. From me. Do you know why I do these things?"  
"Because you're a complete douche bag? Because everyone hates you? Who fucking knows? Do psychopaths need reasons anymore?" Kendall had just found his voice again after it had left when he noticed David Mitchell in the room. And Mr David Mitchell in the same room as Logan Mitchell was never good. Especially when David fucking Mitchell had a nasty looking knife sitting limply in his left hand. Yeah. This was very not good.  
"Oh Kendall, Kendall, Kendall. It's a punishment. You ever been grounded? This is my version of grounding Logan. My version is just a bit more...forceful." Kendall growled softly trying to make his way over to Logan's bed. If he could get over there, then he could protect Logan if things went South. Mr Mitchell shook his head and tutted.  
"Ah ah aha. Naughty naughty, Kendall. Now. I'll give you a choice. I'll either top up Logan's morphine or cut it off. Slowly of course in both cases because where's the fun in doing it quickly? Anyway, you should know the risks. If I raise it up, Logan won't wake up...maybe not ever again. Morphine is a hard thing to gauge. I don't know how much he's had already so it might send him into a coma or it will just make him high. Who knows?" This was sick. This man couldn't be sane. Carlos might be crazy but this man was insane. Honestly. The way his eyes shone in the quick shifting way, never resting, always wide and the crazed look that never left his ice blue eyes. Logan shifted in his sleep and Kendall gagged as the knife cut into his arm but Mr Mitchell didn't move it.  
"Hey! Move the...the knife! You're cutting him! He's hurt already. Can't you just leave him alone?" Kendall asked, eyes wide and hands going white, gripping the railing of Logan's bed too tightly.  
"Ahh...Kendall doesn't like little Logie getting hurt? Oh well. Too bad." David ran the serrated blade edge down Logan's small thin pale, pale arms. A red line ran along from his elbow to his wrist. On the upside. The cut was only just missing his veins on his wrist. Kendall gagged at the thought. Mr Mitchell raised his eyes to Kendall's face and beamed.  
"It's no fun when he's not awake. But if I cut the morphine...he'll wake up but the pain...the pain will just be delicious to watch. Every single cut, bruises and now, gun wound will bite back with a vengeance. He will think he's been set on fire. So. What do you chose, Kendall Knight? You can't phone a friend or ask the audience, it's all on your shoulders." Kendall was terror stricken. He could either effectively kill Logan or cause him all the pain he had ever felt. He would have to break his promise. But isn't there exceptions to every promise? Kendall thought that if someone's life hung on the line then it was OK to break a promise but still...This would be the worst thing he will have ever done. But he needed to choose because Mr Mitchell was getting bored. And Mr Mitchell was bored, Logan got hurt. Kendall sighed and tried to speak. His voice failed him, coming out as a whisper. David Mitchell just raised his eyebrows and slowly slid the knife along Logan's wrist again, making Kendall panic.  
"Cut it off." Kendall's eyes widened as Mr Mitchell burst into a massive smile.  
"If you insist..." Mr Mitchell placed the knife on Logan's wrist and pressed hard but not hard enough to do permanent damage (not that Kendall knew this), smiling as the red blood built up against the knife.  
"No! Not that! The morphine. Cut...cut that." Kendall gasped out quickly, while his fists curled up and almost collapsed as the blood started pouring off Logan's wrist and staining the crisp white sheets on his bed.  
"Hmm. You're no fun. I guess if that's your decision...your wish is my command..." Mr Mitchell turned to the IV and bent it in the middle and cut it with the blood stained knife. The medicine dripped on to the floor as Kendall wished that he could just stop this all. But he couldn't. And now? Now his worst nightmare would become a reality.

...

James had found Carlos sitting outside the hospital, hugging his knees to his chest and biting his lip softly. James felt that he had abandoned Carlos since Logan was stolen from them. Kendall looked after Logan and James looked after Carlos. Now Carlos had been left alone to deal with it him self...and he wasn't doing too well. It showed. Carlos' deep brown eyes were circled with light shadows and were red rimmed. His darkly tinted skin looked paler than ever in the night's moonlight. James felt like he should just go get "ass" written on his forehead. He had left his little brother to deal with something that he couldn't comprehend. James sat beside Carlos on the wooden bench.  
"Hey Carlitos. You OK?" James asked, watching Carlos intently.  
"Uh huh. Why wouldn't I be?" Carlos asked, looking up to his tallest best friend, worried. That something bad happened? Was Logan getting worse? No, he couldn't. The doctors had promised, promised that Logan would get better. So if James wasn't worried about Logan, what was the problem.  
"You know...it's been a stressful couple of days...Carlos, I'm sorry." James blkurted out quickly. Carlos recoiled lightly and looked confused.  
"Why, Jamez? You didn't do anything." James shook his head briskly.  
"I did. I abandoned you. I know that I was worried for Logan and that he would be hurt but that didn't mean that I couldn't look after you too. You're my little brother, Carlos. We love you, you know. You don't deserve to be dropped at the drop of a hat. You're our best friend. It doesn't matter if someone else is hurt, we needed to know that you're OK as well." Carlos wasn't as accustomed with the behaviour of David Mitchell as the other two were. Kendall and James knew that if Carlos was scared, he crawled into his shell. It had only ever happened once. No one wanted to see it happen again. Ever. Not in a hundred million billion years. Carlos was too close to them to let him crawl back into a shell that doesn't fit, a shell that suffocates him, a shell that constricts him. Carlos was the bouncy Cocker Spaniel puppy with the big brown eyes and the hyper active disorder. He could run around for hours and never get bored. James himself wasn't a poodle as some idiots might have thought. James was a Samoyed. He was handsome, protective and very friendly. When he was younger he did make mistakes but when he got older, he matured. Slightly. Kendall was the German Shepherd, strong, confident, dominant to the other three not that they minded. He was the leader of their little pack. Logan was a Husky. He was gentle, welcoming to people and affectionate on occasion. He could also be incredibly stubborn and an escape artist when it came to being asked questions. He could literally disappear when someone needed to ask him something he found embarrassing. No one could figure out how he did it or where he went. James curled his arm around Carlos and held him tight.  
"It's going to be OK." James whispered. Carlos looked at his lap and let his head rest against James' chest.  
"You promise?" Carlos asked, sounding like a five year old who had lost his favourite toy.  
"I promise." Carlos closed his eyes and feel asleep for the first time in a while, still holding onto James who was just watching the stars in the night sky. Then his phone rang, waking Carlos up. James cursed inwardly. Carlos needed sleep.  
"Carlitos, go see where Mrs Knight is, Kay?" Carlos brightened up slightly and skipped inside to find Kendall's mother. James found this reassuring because he knew that when Mrs Knight saw the state Carlos was in, she would force him to take a nap. James turned to the phone in his hand. Kendall. He looked at the message, trying to make sense of it for a few seconds. Then, the penny dropped. James swore loudly, garnering a few odd looks. But he didn't care. He took of full sprint, making his way to Logan's room. If he had figured this out correctly, the faster he got up there, the better.

...

Logan hurt. It burned. He was just waking up and could feel the pain soaring slowly with every couple of seconds.  
"Kendall? James? Carlos? Anyone?" He called out in the dark room, not exactly knowing what was going on. Kendall answered.  
"Logan? Oh God, Logie. I'm sorry, so sorry but I didn't have a choice. He was going to...Oh God. Logan. I-I...I'm...Oh God." Kendall was on the verge of an "episode".  
"Kendall. Kendall...Kennndalll. Stop it. What are you talking about." Kendall slid open Logan's eyelids gently because his muscles were obviously not letting him to such a tiny task by himself. A chuckle filled the air. Logan froze. Oh shit. There was no way. It was impossible. He was at the police station, under custody. This couldn't be happening. Yeah. It must be the drugs Logan was on for pain. But if it was pain meds then why has Logan feeling increasingly sore? Then the face he really really really truly didn't want to see right now loomed over him.  
"But you weren't expecting this, huh boy? Too bad. Cos I'm not going anywhere." Logan squirmed to get away from the stench of alcohol and cigarette smoke in his father's breath. Logan squealed painfully when his father gripped his red and bloody wrist. The young teenager didn't remember this wound. And it wasn't dressed. And the blood was fresh. This had happened recently. Very recently. Something clicked in Logan's brain. Kendall must have seen this happen. Oh God. Kendall must have had to sit there and watch David Mitchell slice his best friend's, his little brother's wrist. That image will probably follow Kendall around for weeks on end. Nightmares. Logan felt sorry for the tall blonde. He didn't need to see this. His father was getting sloppy if someone else had seen the torture. Unless...he wasn't planning on hanging around too long afterwards. Logan looked down at the bed sheets, ignoring the burning sensation working its way up his body and mentally gasped. The entire left side of the sheet was a sticky runny red. This wasn't just a little cut. It was deep. And over a vein. Logan gagged. His father really thought absolutely nothing for murdering him. It scared Logan even more that he had done this while he was sleeping. He hadn't felt the cold knife slice down his arm. He could have gone to sleep and never woken back up again. The thought terrified Logan. Then his father walked over to the end of his bed and nudged his shot and bandaged foot. Logan cried out and winced at Kendall's eyes welling up with guilty tears. It wasn't his fault. That's when Logan noticed James' pale face and the fact that his eyes hadn't left the bloodstained sheet. Logan felt so sorry for James and was about to comfort him when his father cut in.  
"Morphine has just started to wear off. You think this is bad? Just wait for a few minutes. You'll be screaming for mercy." His father laughed manically as Logan's large brown eyes found the IV line and the medicine dripping to the floor, leaving a small useless puddle on the floor.

...

**Mwhahaha. I feel so evil now! Seriously! Love tooooo the following awesome people!  
** **Logan Henderson Is Mine, a paper-a person-a promise, mandy124, xBleepblapbloopx , chanson, Cooperbear22, 2 kool to spell "kool" right, Musiclovesbest, MiSs-vIcToRy96, squoctobird, femaleodd, Milkamoo97, G.N Affinity-Chan, princessabbie10, Melinda Grazz, .thing and CheekyBrunette. I love you all and you are the reason I keep posting this thing. To let you know, this was sitting in my laptop fpr a while cos I thought that people would hate it. But now I have more confidence! Yayayayayayay!**

**Time to take stock in my secret laboratory of EVIL. Model house—check. Potentially explosive bug bomb—check. Various open flames and electrical sparks—check. What could possibly go wrong?**

**Elli x**


	16. Chapter 16: Fire

...  
Fire  
...

Logan was burning. His skin was irritated by the fire burning beneath it and was attacking him mercilessly. He knew he was scaring James and Kendall and was entertaining his father but he honestly couldn't care. The burning covered every inch of his being, attacking, burning, and destroying. It was like he had swallowed sulphuric acid. Concentrated sulphuric acid. He couldn't last much longer with this. He was burning on the inside so badly. The worst thing was that Logan knew that there was still morphine in his system. The last remaining blessed tendrils of morphine would soon burn out and be used and then Logan will be either unconscious or in a lot of pain. He didn't want to be either of those two choices. In fact, in an ideal world, he wanted to be back home in the flat with Carlos, Kendall and James, playing hockey, terrorising the residents or watching some crappy film with the worst special effects ever. But instead he was lying in a hospital bed, his demonic father standing above him, two of his best friends standing helplessly in the room with him who were trying not to annoy Logan's father so Logan wouldn't be hurt not to mention he was without morphine after being shot and tortured.  
"This might be fun but I can think of a way to make it even more fun." James and Kendall watched Mr Mitchell worriedly as he picked up the knife again. Then he ran the knife down the same long slice that had now stopped bleeding but not for much longer. The knife re opened the thin cut and David smiled at Logan's screams. Then he sighed mockingly and looked put out.  
"Still. I can think of a much more fun game. I'll just take Logan again. Goodbye." Mr Mitchell grabbed Logan's wrist and pulled, chuckling softly as Logan screamed when his father pushed his sharp little fingernails into the deep slice that adorned his wrist. Logan's body and nerves couldn't take it anymore and he slipped into the painless abyss that is unconsciousness. Kendall and James grabbed Logan's left arm and pulled. Logan was caught and was being pulled like some twisted sort of tug of war.  
"No! Leave him alone! What did he do to deserve this? Tell me! What?" James screamed, his voice shooting up an octave because of the high stress situation. James didn't think it was possible for his voice to go that high. Usually only Logan could get up that high. And if James had anything to do with it, he still will be. James' vocal chords were aching from the short burst of high frequency. Dolphins could probably understand that.  
"I'll tell you what he did. He is the reason my wife, his mother died. He murdered her. It's all his fault." Mr Mitchell was incredibly calm saying all this but there were dangerous undercurrents of anger and malice as he looked down at his prone, unconscious son. Kendall gulped and tried to pull Logan away. David Mitchell looked up at Kendall.  
"You care for my son, don't you?" Kendall's eyes went momentarily wide and then narrowed suspiciously.  
"Yes but we all care for Logan. He's our little brother. He's the baby of us four." Mr Mitchell looked surprised then beamed and looked around the room mockingly.  
"Four of you? But I only count three. Where oh where is the fourth little team member? I do hope nothing bad has happened..." James' eyes widened impossibly and looked to Kendall. Kendall's face had paled then he nodded to James. James took off in a full out sprint towards where he hoped, prayed Carlos was with Mrs Knight. He bumped into a few doctors and nurses who grumbled and shouted at him. Normally he would apologise but he was rushing. His Carlos could be hurt. Back with Kendall and Logan, Mr Mitchell had his hands on Logan's shoulders and was shaking his none too softly.  
"I guess he's out for a while. Too bad. I liked it when he was awake. Heh, he was screaming and begging for some sort of relief. Do you know that how much morphine was still running round his system? There was still a good amount in that tiny body. Doesn't that just show how good I am at hurting people? Especially my Logan." Kendall snapped.  
"He isn't your Logan! He's our Logan! Our brother, our best friend. We llok after him, protect him from the nightmares you gave him. You know how many times I hear him crying in his sleep and shouting out about knifes and him being so sorry and begging, begging for it to stop? Too many. Much too many. It hurts every time I hear him. It hurts that I couldn't protect him. Couldn't protect him from you." Kendall breathed out heavily. He had no idea where his speech had come from. But he still was glad he had done it. He needed to get it out his feelings about Logan's father. Mr Mitchell was looking at Logan's face intently. He hadn't realised it before but his facial features were almost the same as Cassandra's. David Mitchell was livid. How dare he look even look like the woman he had murdered? David Mitchell drew back his fist and slammed it into Logan's abdomen. Logan's body jerked quickly from the blow then landed on the bed, lifeless as before. Kendall yelled out and a worried look took over his features. Kendall was scared for Logan. He wished that he could take him away from all this. He wished, he wished, he wished. Mr Mitchell suddenly smiled and leaned on the bed mockingly.  
"You don't like Logan being tortured, right?" Kendall nodded slowly, unaware of the foundations of a plan that the older man was laying. A swift punch to the back of his head stopped all his thought as he too fell into unconsciousness. He lay on the floor as Mr Mitchell picked up his own mobile and hit two on speed dial. The person on the other side answered.  
"Jackson? I have a small job for you." He needed help getting two boys out of a crowded hospital unseen, right?

...

James wasn't going to stop. He needed to run. Run as fast as he could. He needed to make sure that Carlos was OK. He didn't want another Logan style violence and fear. James was sick of being scared. Scared, scared for Logan's life, scared for Kendall's well being, scared for Carlos emotional outbreak. These things are terrifying. These are too scary for him to handle. But now he had an adrenaline rush. One hell of an adrenaline rush. James kept running until he shot into the waiting room. No one was there. Oh God. Something had happened. Something awful.  
"Carlos? Oh God, CARLOS?" James was panicking. Big style now. He needed to calm down but nothing calming came to him. He was too wound up, too scared, too terrified for his little brother's life. Both his little brothers. They were being targeted and this couldn't be allowed. Not his friends. James grappled in his pocket for his mobile. His sweaty fingers made the phone slid from his fingers and he was getting angrier and angrier. Eventually, James managed to grab his phone and found Carlos' phone number. James pressed the phone to his ears, not noticing that he was crushing his ear to his head in his worry, and murmured quickly into the mobile, praying that Carlos would be OK and that he will answer his phone and talk like normal and tell him he was being stupid. But the phone was either off or not getting signal. James prayed feverently that it was the first thing. Carlos was notorious for leaving his without charge and switching it off in his pocket accidentally and sparking a mass search for him, thinking he had gotten himself hurt in some way. Still, no answer. James took off to the lift and hit the button he needed. He willed the lift to go faster, higher, quicker. Then the lift stopped but not at James' stop. It was a harassed looking mother, her little son (who was almost covered in jam and had a plaster on his right arm ) and a crying baby in a buggy. James looked as if he was going to cry when the mother couldn't fit the buggy in without hitting James in the shins, over and over. All the time, the little boy was yapping to his mother and was covering most of the lift in strawberry jam and the baby was still crying it's eyes out.  
"You know, I think I'll just wait for the next one." James stepped out and smiled his "fan" smile and the poor woman smiled a thank you. As soon as the door closed, James turned and ran over to the stairs at the end of the hall. He pushed the door open and started up the stairs. James needed to work out more. All this running had made him so tired lately. Still, he hopped up the stairs, two stairs at a time. He had to run up around 5 flights of stairs. James was tired when he reached the second flight but he carried on. He had to go to the roof. Carlos had always liked high places. Up trees, roofs, high buildings or and monkey bars; these were all some of Carlos' favourite haunts when he was bored or scared. Well, Carlos couldn't really be called scared, he panicked quickly. Panic was Carlos' reaction to things that got too bad, exactly the same as James. James pushed open the door to the roof quickly, panting deeply. Carlos turned quickly.  
"James! Are you OK? What's the matter? Jam—JAMES! Put me down!" James had run over to Carlos and lifted him and hugged him tightly. James couldn't believe it. Carlos wasn't ill or dying or was being tortured! James felt a lot of relief washing over him and let him calm down until he wondered why he was there.  
"Carlitos...why are you all the way up here?" James hoped extremely hard that he wasn't going to hear something too gruesome.  
"Umm...I needed to get some air..?" Carlos tried, giggling softly under the scrutiny of James' glare. James was staring very hard and was making poor Carlos feel very stupid.  
"And you couldn't get air on a lower floor? Like the ground floor? I was scared, Carlos! So scared! Mr Mitc-." James froze. He had forgotten about him. And Kendall. And Logan...Logan was hurt and bleeding. A sudden vision of Logan's blood stained sheets flashed before James' eyes.  
"Who? James...who?" Carlos leapt to his feet and stood right in front of James, not caring that he was dwarfed in comparison.  
"Logan...Logan's in trouble. Kendall was there but..." Both boys looked at each other, understanding what the unfinished sentence may mean. They both ran down to Logan's room and found a disturbing sight. No Logan. No Kendall. A trashed room. An open window with the curtains fluttering mockingly in the soft LA breeze, the evening light making the curtains blend into the night. A red set of bed sheets that Carlos swore were white before. A little note. A little note that had been dripped in the red. Carlos picked up the note, ignoring James' gagging motion behind him and the red, red blood dripping from the note and his fingers. He sighed out loud and read.  
"Good day, boys! I've just taken Logan "home" and what do you know, Kendall came too! Not willingly of course. Don't worry though. Only one of them is getting hurt and his name begins with a L...  
Love, David Mitchell."

Carlos was scared, angry, panicky and terrified. He heard James throwing up in a bin behind him and turned to comfort his squeamish friend until he realised the blood on his hands (which was most likely Logan's) probably would scare James more than comfort him.  
"What are we going to do?" James asked, voice hoarse from the vomit that had only just cessed.  
"First of all, I'm going to call my dad about this. He'll probably go nuts and go "question" the LAPD. We'll probably go meet up with him there. I suggest you take a helmet." Carlos answered. Even at a time like this, Carlos couldn't resist being Carlos.

...

**WOOOOOO! DaTa! I love fast updates, don't you? Makes me feel less guilty about being late so often! :\ Anyways I love all you reviewers. I'd list you all again but from the fast typing my hands hurt so yeah. I love you all anyway! OHOHOHOHOH! Guess what! This story has had over 4 thousand hits this month and has more than 80 reviews! EEEEEEEEIIII! **

**Do ya think I'm excited? You better believe I'm excited. We just built a rubber moose and now we're gonna crash cars into it. It doesn't get better than this. Yes. I watch some weird stuff on TV.**

**Elli x**


	17. Chapter 17: Anger

...  
Anger  
...

Officer Garcia...was pissed off to put it lightly. He was raging. His eyes were blazing (if deep chocolatey brown eyes could blaze), his fists were clenched and his facial expression...was eerily calm with a little demonic looking smile just pulling at his mouth. If you knew Officer Garcia well, you knew that all these features meant one thing; That Officer Garcia was mad and was probably planning someone's gruesome and torturous death. On today's agenda was Mr David Mitchell and Officer Craiger. Officer Craiger was in charge of keeping Mr Mitchell away from Logan Mitchell. But he failed. And failure on such a delicate topic would not be accepted. Officer Garcia's hand gripped on the worn leather cover of his car's steering wheel. He sat in silence, having stopped in a passing place. His head dropped on the wheel as he stopped to think. When he had to think, he usually broke something so the smartest thing to do was to stop the massive cruiser before it became a engine powered missile. This was all wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Carlos had phoned him again, this time not tears but angry words piercing the air. Carlos was well and truly angry. Officer Garcia had never heard his usually laid back son so viciously angry. The fact something had bothered Carlos so badly had made Officer Garcia angry. The fact that both Logan and Kendall just made the normal serene officer's blood boil. His anger was immense. He felt like hitting the closest thing to him. The wheel. He hammered his fist off the worn leather and it bounced back, just missing his face. Officer Garcia just thought about what had happened last time...6 years ago.

_Officer Carlos Garcia was standing outside of an eerily familiar house. How many times had he dropped Carlos off here or picked up Logan? Too many to count. That was what made this so difficult. It was a familiar setting that made Officer Garcia's stomach churn uncomfortably. He stood outside the residence, unmoving until...a pained yell filled his ears and made him spring into action. Logan was in pain. Officer Garcia kicked in the door and froze as he saw Logan covered in blood. David Mitchell had him pined to the wall by the throat and had a knife pointed to Logan. A few officers grabbed David as he dropped the little ten year old and Logan just slid down the wall, leaving a inky red trail behind him. Officer Garcia gagged and slid on his knees over the prone boy on the floor. Logan looked up at Officer Garcia, smiled through his blood stained lips and mouthed "thank you" gently. He then shivered and fell into unconsciousness. Officer Garcia picked up Logan and held him tightly, trying to give any comfort. Officer Garcia felt the sickening warmth of blood soaking the front of his shirt. He ignored this and still hugged the poorly boy, watching the cluster of police officers around David decrease as the hand cuffs slid around his wrists. David Mitchell's bright icy blue eyes found Logan lying in Officer Garcia's arms. He started shouting nonsense abuse at his son who was only just awake and heard it all. Officer Garcia watched as Logan let a single tear fall down his bloody cheek. Officer Garcia wiped away the tear and whispered into Logan's ear.  
"He's lying. People do love and care for you. I love and care for you. So do Carlos, James and Kendall. You're OK. We would let him hurt you again." He hugged his "adopted" son in his arms and felt his little body relax and he drifted back into unconsciousness. _

Officer Garcia started his car again and soon found himself outside the Los Angeles Police Department. He stormed into the reception, trying not to smile as the intern almost crapped himself as Officer Garcia growled, asking for "that asshole named Craiger". He got to his desk and couldn't contain a smile as Officer Craiger panicked.  
"Y-y-yes sir? Mr Garcia?" He asked, sporting a big black and blue tinged bruise on the left side of his face.  
"Officer Garcia. What happened to your face?" He asked, concern overtaking his urge to slap this guy stupid and ask what the hell possessed him to turn his back on a crucial level prisoner.  
"This prisoner, Mitchell, David, I think his name was caught me upside the face. I was leading him to his cell and he tripped me. Punched my lights out when I was on the floor. Woke up an hour or two later in the infirmary and was told he had escaped as soon as he got me on the floor. Apparently he got my handgun." The officer explained, fingering his bruise lightly, wincing as he was talking. Carlos Garcia was listening but then his eyes widened. He turned on his feet and ran out of the police station while fumbling for his mobile. He dialled Carlos' number and told him to go back to the flat. Now. Mr David had a handgun now and Officer Garcia was positively sure that the man knew how to use it. He also knew that if he did see Carlos, he would think twice of taking revenge on Officer Garcia for shooting him in the back with the tazer during the court case. Carlos was in danger. They were all in danger. And Officer Garcia couldn't allow this. They were all his boys. In his mind, he had 7 children; Carlos, Kendall, James, Logan, Josef, Alisa and Gabriella. And you don't mess with a police officer's kids. Especially not this police officer's kids.

...

Logan was lying on the same stoney floor, face squashed up against the cold stones. He was back in that terrifying cell except this time, so was Kendall. Kendall wasn't being hurt though but it stung even more that his best friend was seeing how pathetic, how helpless he was compared to his father. His father laughed and let the blade in his left hand dance in the soft light coming in from the window. Logan was at the opposite side of the room to Kendall, who was chained to the same place Logan was mere hours ago. Logan didn't like this place. So many new memories, so raw, so fresh that Logan hadn't healed up yet. He was in pain, he was embarrassed, he was being ridiculed and this was all too much. Logan's two favourite choices of running away for stressful situations returned to him. Running away was out of the question so only going down was available. Logan froze in horror as he felt his eyelids droop and his legs buckle. He always hated this part. Before the nice abyss, the terror of falling. The terror of falling to his knees and the blackness taking over. The first time Logan had ever fainted was when he was only seven and the thoughts and memories of his little mind locking up as he fell, no longer feeling the sharp jabs of his father's favourite knife or the painful barbs he was uttering. Logan was as scared now as he was then but now he had a second worry. What if his father turned on Kendall? Logan couldn't live with himself if Kendall was faced by the same pain Logan often felt. The recurring nightmares, the scars that glimmer in the light and the pure, undiluted fear coursing through his veins. There was no rush, just utter fear. The questions of "is today my last day?" or "Am I going to die here?" floating around his head and mind so often it's not healthy. Logan was damaged. Permanently. But he wouldn't let Kendall be ruined in the same way. He didn't deserve this. No one did. Logan forced himself to stand up straight and take the blows as he was being held up by his father's hands around his tight throat. The warm red blood slid down his cheeks gracefully and splattered noisily on the floor. Logan wasn't going to let this happened to Kendall. His father shouted out, not getting the satisfying screams he sought after, landed Logan one last crippling blow to the chest and left the cell, slamming the heavy wooden door behind him. The only noise filling the room for a while was Logan's panting as he tried to regain his composure.  
"So...how you doing?" Logan asked, smiling slowly, wincing as his face ached after just a few words. His father had landed a massive blow to his jaw and he was feeling it now. His foot was still extremely tender and he was trying to hide how much he was burning. Literally. Logan had a raging fever for some reason. Most likely an infection or maybe just a cold. This cell wasn't heated and the stoney wall kept the heat from getting in so the room was constantly cold. Logan shivered and pulled his hoodie closer to his skin, noticing that Kendall in his short sleeved tee didn't even look cold. Logan thought maybe it was because he hadn't been in the cell as long as Logan had been.  
"How am I doing? Logan, I just had to watch you be punched, kicked, stabbed, sliced and almost gutted like a fish! I'm..."  
"Scared. I'm scared too. He didn't go as hard as he usually does so he must have something really bad planned. I'm scared, Kendall. I'm scared. I've tried saying sorry. I tried and tried and tried and tried..." Logan's words caught in his throat as the edges of his vision started to blur. He tried crawling his way over to Kendall was and was just a little bit away (so much that if Kendall stretched, he could touch Logan easily) when he collapsed.  
"Logan! What's the matter? Did he hurt you badly? I mean like..." Like, did he stab anything vital was what Kendall wanted to say but he stopped when he saw Logan's flushed face.  
"Kendall...I'm so cold..." Kendall rested a hand on Logan's forehead. It was burning hot. Logan had a fever. Logan had an infection. Kendall looked at his wounded foot. Logan's left foot was still bruised but it had a more yellowy look to it. It was infected. And without, medicine...infections could be lethal.

...

**HEHEHE! Yay. Angst! I'm so not finished with these guys so expect another chapter tomorrow (hopefully!). Love to every one of my reviews. I'd write you all out but it's 1:23 in the morning in Scotland and I wanna sleeeeeep. I just had to finish this first though cos...well, I didn't want to let you guys down!**

**It's always a good day when you start it at the bomb range. **

**Elli x**


	18. Chapter 18: Fever

...  
Fever  
...

Oh No. Oh No no no no no no no. This couldn't be happening. Kendall pulled Logan gently over to him and cradled his head in his arms, ignoring the heat radiating from his pale (but now flushed) skin. Did the entire world chose today to be international "Pick on Logan" day? As his Scottish cousins would say "holy crap on a shit stick". He remembered that summer holiday when his two cousins, Eilidh and Domhnall, came to visit. He learned a lot of...colourful language in those two weeks. Anyway, Kendall was praying that he was wrong, that the only thing wrong with Logan was a cold. Or that he was sleepy. As Kendall looked at the gunshot wound, he hissed involuntarily. The skin around the wound was classic infection; red, warm and swollen. The wound itself was sluggishly flowing blood after Mr Mitchell had mercilessly re-opened the wound using a knife (big surprise there, right?) but there was a little amount of yellowy green substance trailing in the blood as well. Pus. This was an infection alright. Logan was fitfully sleeping, never still and squirming around. His face screwed up when he lay on a particularly painful cut or bruise. At least those tiny pinprick cuts had stopped bleeding. To Kendall, those were the scariest thing when they first found Logan. The blood slowly pouring down his arms and face. His face. The bruises were slowly appearing, staining and tainting Logan's pale face with deep purple and red paint splashes. Logan looked so...damaged. He was Kendall's little brother and he couldn't save him from this. This pain, torture and darkness. The room, barely lit, seemed to look more menacing in the dark. The heavy wooden door opened slowly. A dark figure stood in the doorway. Kendall looked up, the only source of natural light shining on both the boys and shouted at the figure. To leave. And not come back. The figure ignored him and came closer. A snigger pierced the air deftly, breaking through Kendall's rant and momentarily startling Logan. He opened his eyes lightly then let them droop back down. It was a good thing he was responsive to sound still, Kendall mused, watching the darkly clothed figure with contempt. He had a fairly good idea who it was. Sure enough, the moment some light shined on his dark, dark hair, David Mitchell's icy, piercing eyes came into view. His grin was sunny as if someone had told him it was his birthday. Going after Logan was his present. David found it all too easy prying Logan from the older boy's arms. The blond one might be strong but David was stronger. Kendall screamed at him.  
"What the fuck do you think you're doing? He has an infection and he's in enough pain as it is!" A swift blade glimmered in front of him and landed on his lips, not breaking the skin but Kendall knew if he moved an inch the sharp serrated blade would pierce his skin like a hot knife through butter.  
"Ah ah aha...Don't want to make me mad, Kendall. When I get mad, Logie here gets hurt. And you don't like him being hurt, right?" Kendall's eyes narrowed, telling the dark haired man that "no, I don't like Logan getting hurt and if you hurt him again, so help me God, I will let Noelle and Logan loose on you with concentrated acid and sledgehammers." They deserved to get their revenge on the man that had robbed them of a childhood. Robbed them of innocence. Robbed them of the money they deserved from their mother's will. Instead that money lay in a till in a bar somewhere or in a drug dealer's pocket. Logan stirred in his father's clutches and his eyes opened. The brown eyes were filled with bleariness and then, stark pain. The infection in his foot was incredabily sore and teh lack of morphine in his system for his other injuries enhanced the pain to extreme levels. Logan was writhing in pain. Most of his thought pattern was "Oh God, make it stop, the fire, the fire, burns, burns, burns. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He couldn't make coherent sentences but when his dark brown eyes met Kendall's stark pitying and fearful green, Logan freezes for a second then as quickly as his sudden sanity came, it was gone like a puff of smoke in a breeze. Logan was uncontrollable. David Mitchell pined to the ground and watched the fear, pain and panic flicker wildly inn his son's eyes. He honestly didn't have any control. David grinned and turned to Logan's foot. Kendall caught this action and prayed he was wrong, that it wasn't what he had thought he had seen. He was wrong. David Mitchell stood up and viciously kicked his own son's shot and infected foot. Logan arched his back and screamed, not caring that it brought tears to Kendall's eyes and made his father laugh in a sick joyful way. Logan wasn't able to focus on anything. The only thing going through his mind was "Ow ow ow ow ow. Pain, pain, pain, pain." Nothing else registered. Logan's vision started fade. He could feel a slice down his chest as his eyes drooped and began to slip into the nice dark abyss of painlessness. Logan fell. Kendall didn't. Kendall was watching his best friends slowly lose himself in the sleep as his father streaked a bread knife down his chest. Kendall was on his feet lunging for David Mitchell but kept being pulled back by his rusting metal chains which hung round his wrist. Kendall longed to scream at David Mitchell just to get his attention away from Logan but he had seen the lost look in his eyes. He was too concentrated on attacking Logan to lose his concentration for something as unimportant as his son's best friend. Kendall hoped someone would find them and save Logan. He was trapped but Logan...Logan was being murdered.

...

Carlos Garcia was listening to his father and froze. His dad that just told him to go home for no apparent reason. That meant his dad was scared. His dad was never scared. It went against everything for his dad to be scared. Carlos took after his dad in personality and they were both fearless. If his dad was scared...then there was a very good reason and Carlos should be terrified right now. He grabs his stuff from the hospital and coaxes James way from his precious bucket in the corner. James had been violently sick at least three times and he wasn't taking any chances by leaving it for too long. James was eerily pale. His face was chalky and covered with a thin sheen of sweat. His voice was sore from the bile he was throwing up. His eyes betrayed his tiredness. Carlos draped on of James arms over his shoulder and pulled the tall brunette to his feet gingerly, not wanting to disrupt his stomach any further. James looked down at his shorter, bulkier friend.  
"My dad called. He said to go back home right now. I'm guessing something's happened." James nodded and limped out of the coppery smelling room that Logan had stayed in for around an hour or two. Carlos fished out his mobile and rang Mrs Knight asking for a lift home. He didn't care that meant her crazy driving. If his dad told him to do something right now, then he better do it. The thought that Mrs Knight's driving might affect James stomach occurred to him but the need to get home was more important. He led James out into the cool night air underneath a streetlamp and waited for the familiar black four door car to pull up beside them which never happened. Instead a dark blue van pulled up and two men leapt out, gagged the two boys and knocked them out using chloroform soaked rags. Both boys were fighting but the ugly chemical wormed its way into their systems, rendering their struggles useless. The taller man, Jeffreys, flipped open his cell and phoned his boss.  
"Well, Mr Mitchell, looks like you got the whole set."

...

Logan slowly awoke to see three concerned faces towering above him. Then his vision went back into focus and the three faces morphed back into one. Kendall's.  
"Hey Logie, how are you doing?" Logan turned his head from side to side and pushed himself up. He felt...OK. For once. The pain was bearable for the first time in hours. His head felt dizzy. Like he was on...drugs?  
"What happened?" Logan moved his left arm was surprised to see it connected to a little clear bag Kendall was holding. A clear liquid was dripping from the nozzle and was sliding down the tube into Logan.  
"Morphine and antibiotics. Turns out your dad doesn't want to kill you using bacterial warfare." Kendall said shrugging. Logan still eyed the bag suspiciously. Kendall caught his look and smiled gently.  
"He didn't poison it. I mixed the stuff up from the bottles he gave me. They were sealed and I checked the label. He tried to give me one filled with that oily stuff you can't take but I told him that and he gave me another one." Logan felt...great actually. His foot still hurt like hell but it was more controlled. His chest however was oozing blood now he had gotten up from his resting place. Kendall winced.  
"It was bad, Logan. He just kept...cutting. Like it was his addiction. He licked the knife at one point and tasted your blood...it was...urgh..." Logan knew. It was disgusting and the memories were swirling around behind his eyes. Logan had felt that happen too many times. Logan hugged Kendall tightly, as if Kendall was his lifeline in this hellhole which he was at the moment. Logan owed Kendall so much but he had hurt him. Badly. Mentally. Kendall was a little surprised then he returned the strong brotherly hug and whispered "I'm not going anywhere" to Logan gently. He knew that was preying on the younger boy's mind. That as soon as they were free, Kendall would leave him. Leave him like so many people had done before. Well, Kendall, James and Carlos weren't just another statistic. They loved Logan like a brother and weren't going to abandon him. Just then the heavy wooden door opened and two scruffy looking boys fell in. The door slammed shut and the two new residents of hell looked over to the two other boys. One was tall with brown hair while the other looked smaller and had an odd helmet looking thing on his head.  
"Guys?" Kendall exclaimed incredulously as Logan slid down against the wall. Now Kendall's attention was averted, he could get a nap. Sleep had been avoiding him lately. He slid closed his eyes as he heard voices chattering. He heard his name being mentioned and then he was shaken hard but still he slid into the nice dark peaceful abyss. Unless the nightmares chased him which was evitable.

...

**Hehehehe! They're all kidnapped now! Officer Garcia is going to be PISSED OFF. And don't even mention Mrs Knight. XD Oh, Boy this is going to beeee fuuuun to write!  
Hugs and virtual Iron Bru and Wispas tooooo;**

**Logan Henderson Is Mine, a paper-a person-a promise, mandy124, xBleepblapbloopx , chanson, Cooperbear22, 2 kool to spell "kool" right, Musiclovesbest, MiSs-vIcToRy96, squoctobird, femaleodd, fdnjskfdsjgkd, Milkamoo97, G.N Affinity-Chan, princessabbie10, Melinda Grazz, .thing and CheekyBrunette. You are all my bestie friends on Fanfiction! I love you all!**

**And excuse me but, HIGH FIVE CHEEKYBRUNETTE! Can you swear like a Scot though? I am fluent in swear. I called someone a son of a bitch in preschool in a foreign language. I was 4. Yeah. Cos I'm so bad assed.**

**Danger is my middle name. It was going to be Georgina but you know...**

**Elli x **


	19. Chapter 19: Chains

...  
Chains  
...

Logan just went to sleep. That was not good. The two others are giving me a weird look as I grip Logan's shoulders and shake him lightly. They didn't see how Logan's head bounced off the stone floor. Hell, I still can't believe he didn't wake away with brain damage. Oh god. I didn't just say that did I? Walk away. Of course he's not going to fucking walk away. His foot has a fucking massive hole in it, doesn't it? Jesus Christ, I need to think more before I speak. I grab his shoulders, and fuck me, they were so skinny thin. Logan needs to have a food feast with Ben and Jerry's. As soon as we all get out of here, Logan is going to be force fed ice cream and chocolate. Oh god, I feel so bloody guilty. Carlos and James weren't here to stop his father but I was. I was and I couldn't get up because of these dumbass chains around my wrist. Who the hell keeps chains in their basement anyway? If this is a basement. It's probably a warehouse. Bad guys always use a warehouse. James looks as if he's going to be sick. I can see why. James is scared in blood and Logan (and me too, probably) are covered in it. Literally. I didn't know Logan had that much blood to lose. Damn, damn, damn. He's still not waking up. Come on, Logie. Don't do this. Oh thank Jesus. He's opened his eyes. I'm still holding the medicine bag, I see. Weird. I thought I had put that down. Anyway. Logie's awake again and he isn't talking at all. He's just looking at us all.  
"I'm dreaming, right? Please tell me I'm dreaming." Logan just sounds so...lost. I hugged him and that pretty much told him, no he wasn't dreaming. We were there with him but we weren't going to go and leave him. James slid beside Logan and threw his arms around Logan too. Carlos just cuddled into Logan's lap as he sobbed quietly.  
"I'm sorry. It's my fault. I'm going to die here and you guys will..." Have to watch. No. No. NO. I am NOT letting that happen to my Logan. He isn't going to die. I'll make sure of it. Just then the door opened and Logan almost leapt out of his skin. No one should be that scared but then I saw the figure in the doorway and the badass looking knife in his left hand. Then I noticed the little syringe in his right hand. Oh shit. That was not good. David fucking Mitchell strode over and looked at us, smiling nicely. We all knew the malice that lived behind that smile.  
"Aww. How sweet. Is Little Logie scared?" He asked, putting on a lisp. He then turned to a thing on the wall. He turned it and my hand flew backwards. The one connected to the chain. Oh there was no way I was leaving Logan. But still, he yanked on this thing until I was just out of reach of Logan. Carlos charged at the bastard but the knife inches away from his chest stopped him. If he hadn't stopped in time...I don't want to think about it. A clasp found its way onto Carlos' wrist to and this one was at the left side of the room but was just like mine; almost touching Logan if we stretch but not actually touching him. This was bad. Me and Carlos were chained up. Logan and James were gripping onto each other for dear life and Mr Mitchell had just set his sights on James. He slowly walked over and I almost pulled the chains out of the walls when he lifted James to his feet and pulled him away, completely ignore the fact that he was squealing because Mr Mitchell was pulling his arm the wrong way. It was almost twisted right round. James had a pretty high pain threshold so that must have been a bitch if he found it sore. Logan grabbed his dad's legs and started babbling about "he didn't need to hurt James". I'm so proud of him but he picks a really bad time to be brave. Then he father just looks back at him and thrusts the knife into his shoulder. He just leaves it sticking out. I saw red and started screaming at the son of a bitch as he carried on chaining James up at the right side of the room while Logan lay on the floor, knife digging into his shoulder. Carlos was going nuts and was shouting something in Spanish at Mr Mitchell. It didn't sound complementary if you get my meaning. James was just shaking, watching the blood pour from Logan's shoulder. The blood was actually spurting out so he must have hit an artery. Where the hell did that come from? Logan must have told me it at one point. Logan had his hand up at his shoulder, trying to stem the blood flow. It wasn't working. His father walked over to Logan, twisted the knife left and right slowly then pulling it out. He then leaned over and injected Logan with something. Logan tried to get away and he started scratching the pinprick on his neck. Oh God. What was in that syringe? Logan's eyes went really crazy. As if someone had just put him on drugs. Shit. What was it? Logan started off into space but his arms were gripped to his shoulder as if he was pulling himself back into the present. It wasn't working. Shite. For the love of fuck, what the hell was in that syringe to make Logan go so weirded out? This was going so bad. Then Mr Mitchell whispered to Logan that made him close his eyes and whimper. No one, just no one does that to my Logan. I wouldn't dare to shout out now because the bastard has the knife again and I don't what to provoke him. I look at James and Carlos, trying to ignore the pull on my heart as Logan shed a few tears. James was pressed right against the wall, shell shocked. He would be fine. I hope. Carlos, like me, was pulling strongly on his chains, begging them to loosen just a bit so he could run over to Logan. Well, that's what I was doing. Mr Mitchell laughed at something Logan had whispered back and walked out of the room, whistling happily. Sick bastard. We watched the man close the door behind him. Then all my attention was on Logan. He didn't look good. His was paler than ever and was covered in a thin layer of sweat.  
"Logan? Logan, what did he get you with?" I asked, scared. What if it was a poison? What if he was going to die? Oh God. If he did die, how would I live with myself? I would have to watch Logan die. I know it would be like a car crash, you want to look away and miss it all but you can't look away. You can't drag your eyes away from the disgusting sight in front of you. Logan looked at his fingers then looked up at me.  
"It's a hallucinogenic, Kendall. I'm going to see things that aren't real. It will be terrifying..." Logan looked so scared that my heart clenched painfully. This wasn't going to be pretty.

...

Logan. Logan, Logan, Logan. Logan was in trouble. He was in pain. I can't... I wouldn't...I need to save him. I pull hard on my chains, hoping that they will just fall away or better yet, I'm just having one disturbing dream. I close my eyes real tight and think about waking up in the morning. I pinch my side softly and open my eyes. I wish I saw the roof of mine and James' room or even the floor but instead I open, my eyes to Logan cradling his arm with wide eyes. Kendall panicking like I was and James slumped over in the corner, closing his eyes hard.  
"James." Kendall looks at me then at James. Logan instantly locked eyes with James and pulled himself over to James gently, hissing when his foot was dragged back slightly. Oh. His foot. It still had a massive bullet hole in it. Owies. But he had that drip thing with his medicine in it so it mustn't be too bad, just a bit sore. Like a bruise maybe. Or a cut. He shouldn't be moving it a lot though. The doctor said he needed a lot of rest before he was kidnapped. I wish this had never happened. I wish Logan could be my brother. He would have to share a room with me but it would be better than sharing with Josef. He's really annoying and is always moaning that I leave my stuff on his side of the room at home in Minnesota. I don't. It grows legs and moves over to Josef town. Not my fault. Or he could be James' brother. James doesn't have a brother but he has a half sister who is a lot older than him and lives in Switzerland. So that sucks for him but if Logan was his brother then he would have someone to talk to when he goes home for the Christmas Holidays or during the summer break. He spends most of his time at our houses anyways. His parents aren't in or around much. They're always really busy. I'm sure they love James but when he got older, they started getting caught up in business. James acts like it doesn't matter but we all know that he doesn't like being abandoned. Kendall's mum always calls us her boys and Mrs Cameron is the mum who bakes the best cookies. She's real pretty with dark hair and really light eyes. Logan and Noelle both have dark hair and dark eyes. Mr Cameron has greyish hair and dark blue eyes. They look kinda different together but it doesn't matter. I guess me, Logan, Kendall and James look really different but we're still brothers. No matter what. Oh boy, I've gone off on one and the guys are calling on me.  
"Carlos? You OK?" I shook my head rapidly and look up at their concerned faces. Logan...well, Logan was looking concerned when his face went really pale and he pushed himself up into the wall.  
"Logie? What's the matter?" James asked, trying to calm him down by placing a hand on his shoulder. James gulped when his hand came away red and he wiped in hard on his dark denim jeans. Logan didn't seem to care. It was as if he didn't see James, me or Kendall anymore. He saw something scary.  
"Spiders! Everywhere! Get them off me! Off, off, off. They're going to bite me! Help me! Kendall! James! Carlos! Help! Get them off me! Get them off, get them off, get them off!" Logan was shaking his head really hard and brushing his hands down his chest as if he was pushing the imaginary spiders away from him.  
"Logan. Logan. Logan, close your eyes. Come on. Just close your eyes. The spiders aren't real. Trust me, Logan. Just close your eyes. Right now." Kendall pleaded. I heard the pain in his voice. I'm good at noticing things. I know that Kendall hates, hates, hates it when any of us are hurt. I remember when me and Logan got stuck up a tree and the branch we were standing on snapped. Kendall beat himself up about something he had no say in for days. We told him that it was out fault, that he shouldn't have been so stupid. He just smiled at us sadly and said that he couldn't tale it if one of us were gone. If Logan dies here...a big bit of Kendall will too.

...

Blood. There's blood everywhere. I'm probably sitting in the disgusting stuff. God almighty. I hate blood, I hate blood, I hate blood. Logan says that my fear is irrational. That I need blood to survive. Yeah, that's why it shouldn't be on the outside. It should be inside me, swirling round my veins and pumping my heart and ick ick ick. I've just made myself feel sick talking about veins and stuff. I hate blood. I hate hospitals. I hate medicine. I hate biology. I hate a lot of things. Most of them are somehow related to blood. I hate Mr Mitchell. Mr Mitchell cut Logan a lot and Logan lost blood. I hate doctors. Doctors work with blood. A lot. I could never work with blood. Logan wants to be a doctor. He says blood doesn't bother him. He isn't the least bit squeamish. Lucky. Being squeamish sucks. The slightest mention of blood and I have to hide my neck and wrists. Don't ask why but I can't have them showing when someone is talking about blood. I can't have people touching the upside of my wrists either. I have a panic fit when people to. It's really embarrassing and no one ever thinks anything of it. It's horrible. Logan told me to pretend that blood was just tomato juice. Because everyone has tomato juice spurting from their cuts. Uh huh. Right. I'm scared though. Scared, scared, scared. Not because of the blood. It cos what if my friends don't get out of here? What if we never get back home? What if I never tell my parents that I'm sorry for shouting at them the last time I saw them? What if Logan...dies? Or Kendall or Carlos or me? What would the guys do? Kendall would be raging, Carlos would go on a rampage and Logan would just shut the whole world out. I hate it when he does that. He just pushes the entire world away and goes to "dream land" for a wee while. He doesn't remember doing it and when he does wake up, he's really emotionally tired. It's like all his walls are being build up around him and he sits inside his head, fixing the cracks and repairing his walls before he can go back into the real world and function properly. I can't do that. I have to sit and grieve openly. I can't keep anything bottled up. I have to let everyone know how I'm feeling. I am known for being a bit vain but I'm only vain because I'm trying to avoid disappointing people. People like looking at nice things and if I look nice then people wouldn't shun me and push me away. Like my parents do. I love them, I really do, I just wish...they understood me. They're both lawyers. Busy lawyers, constantly working. A cook makes my meals back in Minnesota but more often than not, I tell her to take a break because I'm going over to Kendall's, Carlos' or Logan's house for dinner. She gives me a look then hugs me gently. That apart from the hugs from Mrs Knight, Mrs Garcia and Mrs Cameron are the only motherly contact I get. It sounds really sad but what can I do? Not my fault or my parent's fault. I've just got to live with it. But now I'm in LA. City of the rich and famous. Mrs Knight is my guardian and she's awesome. I feel more at home in the flat than the massive prison complex that my parents call my "home". It's so...empty. In the Garcia's house, there's always noise, a mess and the warmth of a normal home. Josef doing college work at the table, Alisa playing some music, Gabriella in her mum's arms babbling baby speak, Carlos chattering to someone, Mrs Garcia cooking, feeding someone or comforting someone because they have hurt themselves and Officer Garcia watching the news or picking up Gabriella to lighten the load of Mrs Garcia. Kendall's house is the same only less noise and mess. Mrs Knight will be doing something "mumish", Katie will be watching TV or planning some grand get rich quick scheme and Kendall playing an impromptu game of indoor hockey. The Cameron's house is a bit different. Mr Cameron doesn't come home until late, Mrs Cameron is like Mrs Knight and is always doing something distinctly mum like, Noelle is usually talking to her friends on her mobile or is out with her camera and Logan is usually reading, doing his homework or is put with his friends. I am always with my friends. My parents are always out. It's just not fair sometimes. Life's a bitch. God, is that true sometimes. Especially right now.

...

Logan had recovered from his massive panic attack about spiders. Urgh, the big hairy spindly looking things climbing over his limbs, going for his face. Disgusting. He struggled to regain his normal breathing pattern as he rested his head on the cold stone walls behind him. The ceiling wasn't cold stone. It was a modern roof. Someone had plonked a modern roof on an old building. Who was dumb enough to do that? His dad was out of the question so the only other thing Logan could think of was that his dad had rented out somewhere remote. That wasn't a nice thought. His father was making sure that he had nowhere to run to. Well, he wasn't actually going to be running anywhere, was he? Not with his injured foot. Logan tested his foot gently and screwed up his face when a burning pain worked its way around his foot. That hurt. A lot. Logan opened his eyes and looked at his friends. Despite his current circumstances, he smiled. Carlos was wrapped up like a cat, head protected and knees at his chest. Kendall was sprawled out on the ground, arm behind his head. James, who was beside him, was curled up beside Logan and Logan closed his eyes again and let sleep come over him gently. He might be stuck in a hell hole but now his friends were with him, he didn't feel the world hated him. At least three people cared about him and they were all in this room. It was a nice scene until the door opened again and Mr Mitchell made his way over to Logan, plucked him from James' side and pulled him out of the room. He then pined the small boy to the wall outside the cell. Logan noticed a small fire and a metal object and cringed.  
"You were getting a bit too...comfortable in there, huh, Logan? Well, let's see how well you can cope when I take them away from you. I will win little Logan. I always win." With that, David Mitchell pulled out a poker and placed it in the flames. He watched them dance softly then he placed the now red hot poker on Logan's bare back. Logan screamed.

...

**Here ya go. I now it's really, really short but at the moment it's the least I can do. I have an announcement. I'm going on holiday for two weeks on Sunday so don't expect too many updates. The good thing is that in the first time in ages, I've got a free day tomorrow so I'll be able to write quite a bit! Yay! **

**Remember, I love you all; Logan Henderson Is Mine, a paper-a person-a promise, mandy124, xBleepblapbloopx , chanson, Cooperbear22, 2 kool to spell "kool" right, Musiclovesbest, MiSs-vIcToRy96, squoctobird, femaleodd, fdnjskfdsjgkd, Milkamoo97, G.N Affinity-Chan, princessabbie10, Melinda Grazz, .thing and CheekyBrunette.**

**G.N Affinity-Chan- Nicely done. How about, "David fucking Mitchell is THE most fucked up motherfucker, shit arse douche bag in Crap Town, Fuck Land. XD**

**CheekyBrunette- I used your idea...but don't have an aneurism. Cos that would hurt. Lots.**

**I got sent to the school office today. Apparently "I have it on good grounds, that you have no evidence that it was me" is the wrong way to address a teacher.**

**Elli x**


	20. Chapter 20: Burned

...  
Burned  
...

The worst thing about being burned is the smell. The smell of singed, burnt, poisoned, tainted flesh. The stench that couldn't be pushed away, it clung to your nose, clogging your senses. Logan squirmed from the red hot poker, forcing itself into the small of Logan's back, burning. Logan swore he could hear his blood _sizzle _as the poker burst the skin and carried on burning. Then the burning feeling trailed off. The poker was cooling down. God had some feeling in his heart apparently. Logan felt the force behind the poker lift and he fell down, face sliding down the cool wall. He turned to face his father, hiding the now weak spot. He refused to let that poker anywhere near that burning itchy spot. Logan knew there would be blisters and welts to contend with later but for now, the biggest threat was the calm, pleased man standing in front of him with a now cold poker.  
"Mmm. It's cold now. Still." Mr Mitchell pushed his injured foot. Hard. Without the morphine running through his system, the pain was a demon, getting deep into Logan's being and tearing his nerves to pieces. This man wasn't his father. This man was a fucking psychopath from hell. Satan is probably terrified David Mitchell will take over when he dies. Logan's eyes filled with tears for once. He was too tired just to bottle it all up. He didn't fight, he just lay down on the floor, head dipping. His neck was too tired and his head felt like it was filled with bricks. His eyes slid closed and he imagined himself away. Away from the world where getting shot wasn't too out there and dying seemed to always on his mind. He didn't go to Minnesota or the flat. He went to a little cottage he had always imagined as a child. When the teacher asked him to draw a picture of his home, this was the place he drew. It was a little white yellow house with honeysuckle and rose bushes around the edges. There was a batch of apple trees which were in bloom, white flower shimmering in the sun. There was a lake glimmering behind the house and rolling green hills behind it. He was looking around the cottage. The sun was shining and he was the only person there. He closed his eyes and felt a _woosh_ as he was dropped in the middle of a city. There was almost no noise apart from some quiet background music. Logan face palmed gently. He was dreaming. That was the only explanation. There isn't background music in the real world. Well, Logan hoped not. He looked around seeing familiar shops such as an HMV and a Thornton's Chocolates. He noticed something yellow out of the side of his eye. He turned and saw Kendall skating down the street, chasing the puck. He was using his ice skates but he was playing on concrete. It was odd but not as odd as when Logan looked down and he was dressed fully in his team's uniform, skates and all. And the city had morphed into a large ice rink. Which was doubly weird. He turned his head and found James in his white helmet by his side and a team decked in blue in front of him. Kendall shouted at him and James who played attack with him smacked him upside the head.  
"Hey, Logie! I like winning not to mention living so let's not bug Kendall by not concentrating, OK?" Logan laughed. This was what his life was supposed to be like. Hanging with his friends, having fun and kicking the other team's asses. Then it turned on its head. Logan found himself face down in the ice after being smashed into some boards. Hard. He looked up feeling the warmth of blood running down the left side of his face. It was David Mitchell. Suddenly, his friends were gone, the rink was gone and the only thing left in the darkness was Logan and his father. A blade glinted in the night and Logan closed his eyes and screamed. Then he awoke for a few seconds. He say his father standing over him and then all he saw was red. His eyes. He had cut his eyes. Logan was blind. Blind, blind, blind. All he could hear was his father laughing at him gently. Then the laughing increased. And went around his ears, again and again and again. Then he woke up.

...

Logan is screaming. Fuck. What the hell did his son of a bitch of a father do to him now? If he's hurt him too badly, then he will die. He was going to die before but now he has doomed himself. I'm going to feed him to a snake and then I'm going to feed the snake to a massive man eating shark. After stabbing the living shit out of him. Naturally. I am thiiiiis close to ripping of my arms just to kick his father's ass. I'm so bored of sitting here not able to save my Logan. Carlos is panicking which is weird. Because he NEVER panics. It's just really...wrong. He's fidgeting and looking around, never still. James is sleeping. Or he's unconscious. Probably the second. He's been known to faint when stress gets really bad or when there's too much blood and he can't cope with his phobia. Since stress is always too much right now and there is too much blood. Logan's blood. Shit. The floor is almost coated in Logan's blood. I've never seen this much blood. The most blood he has seen, the most of Logan's blood, is the time that Kendall went over to Logan's house when he was 8. Kendall had been phoning Logan's house but no one had ever picked up. David was often out, Noelle was probably out at a club at school but Logan was usually home around 4. It was at least 6 o'clock. So Kendall had made his way over to the little suburb house with the pretty apple trees and rang the door bell. Multiple times. No one answered. Kendall, being the over protective person he was, opened the door slowly and called out. He heard a soft moan around the area where the stairs would be. He cracked open the door and looked around and he was shocked. Logan was on the floor in front of the stairs covered in blood. Kendall ran over to his best friend and tried to help him. He wiped away some of the blood covering his face and tried to gently wake him up.  
"Logie? Logie! Logie, are you OK? Logan, talk to me!" Logan slowly opened his eyes and spoke gently.  
"Kendall? What...what h-happened? How did y-you get here?" Logan asked, frowning softly.  
"Logan, I don't know what happened to you. I came here to find out happened to you. I phoned a few times but no one answered. You must've fallen down the stairs." Logan nodded and Kendall lifted him and pulled him over to the sofa.

Kendall realises that Logan was probably beaten by his father and pushed down the stairs. After Kendall left Mr Mitchell passed him on the way. He seemed happy enough but Kendall had left. He hadn't heard the angry screams, the pained cries or the piercing scream when Logan's hand was burned viciously with the searing hot hob. Kendall felt sick as he realised how much he had missed and ignored. That's when Logan was thrown back into the room.  
"Logan! Logie, Logie, Logie!" Kendall panicked as he tried to make his way over. That's when the door flew open and a barrage of police officers entered the room. Logan blacked out and the other three other boys weren't too far behind. Relief washed over them and all the stress just fell away. For now.

...

**Meep. That sucked... Grrr...I blame the nicey nice weather! It made me too hot to write properly. DAMN YOU RANDOM HOT WEATHER! Anyway, I love all you reviewers, story alerters and favourite storyers! You alllll rock!  
CheekyBrunette: Ummm...say sorry to your parents from me for making you scream! XD  
everyone: YOU ALL ROCK! **

**Don't you just hate it when something you've paid good money for won't break the way you want it to? **

**Elli x**


	21. Chapter 21: Reassurance

...  
Reassurance  
...

Officer Garcia almost dropped to his knees and cried at the sight in front of him. Carlos was in the far off right corner, asleep yet holding himself tightly, whimpering soft words in Spanish to himself as he had disturbing nightmares about Logan and his current situation. James was shaking and rubbing his arms furiously, mumbling something about "getting rid of the blood" and "Ick ick ick". Kendall was lying on the floor, sprawled out and unconscious with his arms wrapped around Logan gently. Logan himself...looked awful. From what Officer Garcia could see (Paramedics swarmed around Logan and had pulled his gently away from Kendall), his thin figure was thinner and bonier than ever. His ribs dug out visibly and his face looked hollow in the dim light. He was covered in blood. Literally covered. His face was smeared red from where someone had tried to wipe the blood away (and judging from the colour of his jumper, Officer Garcia was guessing it had been Kendall) and his arms were oozing dark red blood. Pinpricks. Needles. Officer Garcia was going to be sick. This man, he didn't deserve to be called his father, had stabbed Officer Garcia's "adopted" son with needles. By the look of it, many of them. This was sick. Officer Garcia watched as the paramedics moved the unmoving boy to a stretcher and proceeded to move him out into the ambulance waiting outside. Officer Garcia moved over to James and held his arms still. James looked down at his arms in confusion and then looked up into Officer Garcia's eyes.  
"Hi." He said, voice hoarse and eyes large.  
"Hi James. You OK?" The officer asked, wincing at the dark red marks that spread across the brunette's long forearms and then let his arms go, hoping James was a bit more stable now.  
"Uh huh. I've got blood on me though." With this James resumed scratching his arms viciously and dashed Officer Garcia's hopes of him getting over his fear. Officer Garcia grabbed his arms again and noticed that no other officers had entered the room. He nodded to the closest two.  
"James. James, listen to me. James! You don't have blood on you. James, stop scratching your arms, you're going to hurt yourself. Please James. Come on. Let's get you home, OK?" James frowned gently but stopped scratching his arms.  
"Are the other guys coming too?" He asked turning to his friends but not really seeing them. If he had, he would have either broken down or leapt away, screaming about blood being everywhere.  
"Of course, James. I'll make sure they come too." James smiled at this and let the two other officers lead him out to the patrol car. Officer Garcia sighed. One down, three to go. He moved over to the sleeping sprawled out Kendall.  
"Kendall? Kendall. You OK?" Kendall's bright green eyes fluttered open slowly.  
"Hmmm? Oh. Officer Garcia. Wait. What are doing in my bedroom?" Kendall asked; sleep clouding his thoughts and his eyes. Then his eyes focused and he looked worried.  
"What happened? Where's James? Is he OK? Did Mr Mitchell get him? He did, didn't he? What did Mr Mitchell do to him?" Kendall was rambling, working up his anger and worry. Officer Garcia grabbed his shoulders and looked him straight in the eye.  
"James is outside in my patrol car. He's having a fit about...blood?" Kendall's eyes narrowed quickly when the words "James" and "blood" were used together. He knew James would be panicking.  
"I'll go get him and calm him down. Your patrol car right?" Officer Garcia nodded and Kendall pushed himself up easily into a crouched standing position and carried on outdoors, intent on helping at least one of his friends in any way possible. Kendall walked out of the cell, determined as always. He was the leader and he had to help someone, anyone just to get back to his normal cycle of normality. Officer Garcia watched Kendall go, pride in his eyes that "his" son could put such a horrible experience behind him just for his friends and family, then he turned to his own son and felt a pull at what he had nicknamed the "Carlos" heartstring. It was if each of his children had their own heartstring to pull at. Carlos was at the left hand corner and hurt, like every single other one does, like hell when it had been pulled. Right now, it felt like it was being pulled by Rottweilers. Rottweilers with attitude problems. _Serious_ attitude problems. Carlos was lying on his side, sobbing in his sleep. Officer Garcia crouched in front of his little son, his baby. He watched him intently, picking up on the paleness of his skin and the worry tremors that made his hands shake violently on random occasions. He had a cold too. The soft dark rings around his eyes made this quite clear. A little mark on his left cheek made Officer Garcia's blood run cold. David Mitchell had hit him. David Mitchell had hit Carlos out of anger. Anger which was probably aimed at Officer Garcia. Officer Garcia's anger was currently at complete and utter meltdown level so he was very, veeery annoyed right now. His eyes glimmered and that same maniacal, calm smile played on his lips. David Mitchell was going to meet with either a cobra or a wild pack of wolverines very soon. Or a gun. To a particularly sensitive place. Officer Garcia's gun. Which would be shot by Officer Garcia. Then he would let a pack of wild sharks have their way with the dismembered body parts. He had attacked two of his boys. He was going to pay. Ohh yes. He was going to pay. Officer Garcia placed a large warm hand on Carlos' shoulder.  
"Carlitos? Carlos, you're dreaming. Wake up, OK? You hear me? Wake up." Officer Garcia whispered quietly to Carlos, knowing how much of a light sleeper he was. It was odd that he hadn't waken up before now, with the commotion. Officer Garcia's eyes widened. He place his index finger on Carlos' wrist and sighed in relief. For a minute there...Officer Garcia shook his head. That was not a good image. Carlos' eyes cracked open and closed again as the harsh light of one of the police officer's torches glared in his face. Officer Garcia spotted this and gave that one guy a look that can (and probably will) kill. The guy (who had turned from exceptional confident to a nervous wreck in the time span of a few seconds) lowered his torch and then refused to meet Officer Garcia's eyes. Officer Garcia hid a grin and turned back to his son. Carlos looked up at his dad, tears pooling.  
"You came to save us, didn't you, Papi?" Carlos asked, voice so frail that his father had to lean in to hear his normally loud son. Officer Garcia himself nodded, not trusting his voice. Carlos nodded slowly, tears dripping from his face and flung his arms around his father. Officer Garcia took the sudden weight easily and returned the desperate need for any form of affection. Carlos was feeling scared, lonely and needed his dad right now. So his dad gave him what he needed; reassurance. Carlos needed to be told it was all going to be OK. Which it was. Officer Garcia wasn't going to let ANY of them out of his sight ever again.

...

Mrs Knight was frantic. She was running around the flat, grabbing items of clothing for Logan's overnight hospital bag (she knew he would hate to wake up in dirty 3 days old clothes), things for the three other boys to make them feel better (Carlos' helmet, James' hair and skin things, Kendall's hockey stick brandishing teddy bear), trying to calm down an irate and EXTREMELY emotional Camille, giving information to Jo so she could explain to Camille as she was refusing to listen to anyone else and trying to find Katie among the mess that was her bedroom. There was bits of paper from her "schemes" notebooks scattered everywhere, pieces of clothes and shoes everywhere with no rhyme or reason to the placing, pictures lying all over her desk and Mrs Knight was saddened to find they all had little tear smudges over them. Katie had been crying. Not an uncommon thing at the moment.  
"Katie? Sweetie, where are you?" A sniffle from the cupboard answered her question. Mrs Knight flicked a loose strand of fiery red hair from her face and cautiously made her way over to the cupboard. By the time she had reached the cupboard, she had somehow acquired a pair of red trainers, several stickers and an assortment of different coloured pieces of paper. She removed her new items and knocked gently on the cupboard door.  
"Katie?" She asked and listened to the cease in sobbing. Then a shuffle was heard and a voice answered her with; "Go away." Despite this friendly advice, Mrs Knight simply rolled her eyes and opened the cupboard. Katie was sitting inside, knees curled up to her chest and clutching onto a torn, worn old teddy bear (Mr Socks. Oddly enough, he didn't have socks...) like it was her lifeline. Which, to her, it probably was. Katie looked up at her mother with red rimmed eyes and tear stained cheeks.  
"What if I go there and he doesn't look like Logan?" Katie asked, voice trembling. Mrs Knight closed her eyes and crouched down. She looked Katie square in the eyes.  
"He is going to get better. I promise you, Katie. It's not like when our grandpa was ill. Logan doesn't have a disease, he's hurt. And he will get better. Ok?" Katie didn't answer. She was too busy crying into her mother, little arms wrapped around Catlin Knight's neck. Mrs Knight just wrapped her own arms around her scared child and murmured reassurance. Because that's all she needed right now. It was to be told that Logan, Carlos, James and Kendall weren't dying and that everything was going to go back to normal. Eventually.

...

**OHOHOHOHOHOHO! I got a message from Freckyfrex about their remake of the Audition scene in BTR. And I will say this. That was totally awesome! Seriously! Check it out! ;) Thanks to everyone who told me to get out of the nice deck chair and get on my laptop to write. I needed that encouragement. If I EVER say anything like that, just threaten me with some uber, uber non angst, fluffy request. I'll either die or start crying in hopelessness. Then I'll get an evil grin and start to write the COMPLETE opposite of what you requested equalling WRITING! Hurray for reverse psychology! Anyway, I love all you reviewers and story alerters so HUGS ALL ROUND! XD**

**This is where the danger zone happens. When nothing happens for a while, everyone's like "well, let's get closer… let's get closer… let's get closer…" and BOOM! everyone's dead. **

**Elli x **


	22. Chapter 22: Hopeful

...  
Hopeful  
...

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Bee-_  
"Fuck! That hurt, Carlos!" James...I think. My brain is all stuffed with cotton wool. It wouldn't work for me. It's annoying. And I can't remember how I got...here. Where ever here is.  
"Well, getting hit by a hockey stick usually hurts, James." Kendall. Most likely. He sounds bored though. I wonder if this is all just drugs messing with my brain because I seem to remember a syringe going into my arm. Scary. If Iknew what it was then I could figure out if I'm going nuts or if something else is making me go nuts. Still can't figure out voices though but Kendall is usually being the peacemaker. Well, I try but I'm usually too quiet or fighting myself. Meh. I fight with the other guys too, you know! I'm not just...who the heck am I talking to?  
"Why was he allowed that in here anyway? Surely it's a violation of hospital rules, right?" I hear a loud smack. Whhaa? What was that? Oh and I guess I'm in a hospital. Wait, wait, wait. Hospital? I should probably open my eyes. Ow. Not a good idea.  
"Hey! Someone turn those lights down. Logie? Can you hear us?" Weeellll. No shit. It's pretty obvious I'm awake. Isn't it? I try to get up but I'm pushed right back down. What nice friends I have. Honestly. They try to wake me up then they push me right back down. Great.  
"Guys? Wh...what's going on? Why am I in hospital? Seriously guys? Did you do something again?" I ask, because them doing something that endangered my health wasn't out of the realm of impossibility.  
"Logie! How could you assume that? You were...Logie? Logan. Logan?" My eyes had slid shut slowly and I could feel the room spin behind my eyelids. The back of my head throbbed not to mention my chest. Broken ribs. What a fun couple of weeks I'm in for now. I can hear the background swirling around. People are worried it seems. James and Carlos are freaking out and Kendall is shouting for someone. God knows who. I try to shake my head but owie ow ow, I wish I hadn't because all of my brains just got a brand new home. Kendall catches me shaking my head though and goes over to the bed.  
"Logan, can you hear us?" I don't want to risk shaking my head again cos that hurt a lot even with the morphine I'm guessing is going through the line in my arm (which is itchy. Very itchy) so I raise my hand slightly. I don't even know if I could lift it but hey, why jinx it? If it's working for me, then that's OK with me. The lights are still piercing my closed eyelids. Which sucks. Then all the lights go off.  
"Is that better, Logan? I guess the lights were bothering you. I told the other guys to go outside for a while, OK? It's me, James. You might not remember much right now but, god Logan, you scared us all. So bad. Don't have another life or death experience, OK? You...you went downhill pretty quickly. You were medical dead for at least 3 minutes at one point and honest to god, they were the longest few minutes in my life. Your heart monitor just went. God, I was terrified. We all thought you were going to die. Logan?" I opened my eyes slowly and James blurry face came into view. Well I say James' but to my eyes it could be anyone. I recognised James' voice though. It was easy. Carlos always accented his R's weirdly like "Rurrrr" and Kendall, when he was worried about something, chewed the inside of his bottom lip, making his speech really muffled. Since I don't hear my accent, I don't know how my voice sounds but the guys are always picking up on the way I can't say words with R's properly sometimes (road and Rocque Records comes to mind). James was scared? Scared for...me? The only thing James is well and truly scared of is blood. But scared for me? I know the guys care for me but sometimes, it feels like everyone is just pulling a prank, that one day, everyone is going to turn on me and say that I was so stupid to actually think that anyone wanted to hang out with me. That anyone would actually like me. Then, the group of people disappeared and then it was just the leader. My dad. He would have that creepy look in his eye and he would just play with a razor sharp knife or something. Then he would strike and I would normally wake up. Oh God. I...remember. All the blood, the weapons, my friends...my friends having to watch that. That torture. Oh God. How must they be feeling? They probably think I'm the worst person ever. If I had been even a little bit better as a kid... they wouldn't have to go through any of this. I feel so bad. Feeling guilty is the worst thing ever. You always feel like the entire world is resting on your shoulders and I don't know about anyone else but the world is pretty heavy and uncomfortable sitting on your shoulders. So not a nice feeling. James has just left me though. I can hear his trainers scuff on the squeaky lino floor. Why do hospitals always use the same squeaky, shiny, slidey flooring? You'd think they would use carpet or something with grip if they were going to be sprinting around going to ICU patients or somewhere like that. Carlos has just come into my room. Well, he's actually standing at the door, tapping his foot quickly in the way he does when he's nervous. Not scared. Carlos is never scared. I swear to God, that guy either has no common sense or is the bravest person I know. He slides the door closed and slowly walks in. I better try to open my eyes now. I crack them open. Urgh, I feel like I've been asleep for years. Seriously, what kind of anaesthetic did they have me on? I feel like crap. Carlos throws himself down on the bottom of the bed, completely ignoring the chair (granted it looks like it's EXTREMELY uncomfortable) and makes me bounce at least a foot off the hospital bed.  
"Jesu Christo, Carlos! What was that for?" Was what I tried to say. It actually came out like; "JessChris, Carlos! Whatwaz datfour?" It doesn't really have the same effect. Amazingly, Carlos understood my gibberish and smiled.  
"Good morning, happy! Glad to see you've finally decided to open your damn eyes!" I roll said eyes but inside, I'm pretty damn glad that Carlos is still acting like Carlos. Even if that bruise on his cheek is new. It looks sore. Holy Moley, what am I talking about sore for? That bruise looks pretty damn painful. Carlos stops smiling when he sees my glare at his left cheek.  
"Oh, that? I just hit it off the door." Nice try, bub. None of the doors in the hospital have door handles. I've been here before. It's where I did my work experience when I was 15. So what did hit him. Oh shit. More like who. And I can guess the who now. David Mitchell. He isn't my dad. You know, maybe this is all one sick mistake. Maybe (hopefully), David Mitchell isn't my dad and me and some other kid got switched at birth. That would actually make a lot of sense. But we both look way too alike for that so there's that theory out the window. Damn. Carlos hasn't been talking in a while, just watching my face probably. I tend to make faces when I think or talk. I can't control it, it just happens itself. Weird or what. But I guess we all have our little ticks. Like Carlos has a habit of tapping his foot. Incessantly. To one REALLY annoying rhythm. I have no idea what song that's supposed to be but honest to god! It pisses me off.  
"Will you knock it off?" Again was what I meant to say. It wasn't as bad as before but my voice slurred a bit, specifically the vowels. Carlos looked up, a little shocked from my outburst. Shit. I didn't mean to hurt him. I sighed and looked up, a little smile on my face.  
"Sorry Carlitos but all this stuff is making my head hurt." I wasn't lying. All these meds going through my system was making me sore and heavy and not to mention the injuries were making a comeback by having a rave and kicking up again. Yippee. My eyes slide shut again. It's such a chore to keep them open...Just...Going to...Rest My Eyes...

...

Logan's asleep again. He looks more relaxed now, not struggling to stay awake and to try and talk to us. We would understand if he had to just sleep for a while. The trouble is, he doesn't want to go to sleep. I guess nightmares have a part to play in that. He's probably scared that his dad is going to run rampant in his dreams. Which he probably will. I'm not a psychologist but when someone experiences something that puts them in a hospital's intensive care unit, I'm guessing some not so nice thoughts bounce around their noggin at night. Nightmares used to bug Logan a lot when we first moved here, to LA. He would usually spend the night in the living room, reading a book or Googling random stuff. That's what Mrs Knight found him doing at 4 in the morning one night. She had been worried about something and when Mrs Knight is worried, she can't sleep. So she went into the kitchen and found Logan reading a book with tears dripping down his face. She's not the only one...

_Carlos Garcia was NOT tired. At all. It was odd. Usually Carlos lay down at night, was asleep in seconds and woke up at six the next morning listening to James' snoring. So this was weird. Carlos couldn't sleep. He had tried everything. Counting sheep, listening to music, drinking warm tea, everything! Then Carlos heard footsteps in the living room. He launched himself out of bed and landed promptly in something sticky. A forgotten caramel chocolate bar. Icky. Carlos tried to creep around his room and ended up with his fist in his mouth, trying to muffle his cry of pain as he stood on a plug. Damn James and his god damned Nintendo DSi charger! He picked up a hockey stick and held it above his head in (hopefully) a threatening manner. He cracked the door open and saw the black figure sitting on the orange couch downstairs. Carlos snuck out of his room and crept onto the base of the swirly slide. He walked down the side and without warning, he leapt off the slide and landed on the couch beside the figure, hockey stick raised. Just as he was going to hit the intruder...  
"Carlos? What...what __**are**__ you doing?" Wait...he knew that voice. Logan? What was he doing up? At 4 in the morning.  
"Logan? What the heck are you doing?" Logan's dark eyes stood out even in the dark light.  
"Hey, I asked first. Answer my question and then I'll answer yours." Carlos couldn't complain although he felt kind of stupid telling Logan why he was up.  
"Well, ya see, I thought, crazy thought I know, that you were...a burglar?" Logan blinked a few times then he threw back his head and laughed.  
"Carlos. Why would a burglar be sitting on our couch? Would he be stealing our stuff not making himself at home?" Carlos made a face.  
"Yeah...well...umm...answer the question, Logan! Why are you up so early? Or late. Whatever it is." It was Logan's turn to feel stupid.  
"I..umm...had...a nightmare..." Logan looked away and muttered softly. Carlos frowned. When Logan had nightmares they were always spectacularly awful ones about his abuse as a child.  
"Logie...what was it about this time?" Carlos asked gently. Logan bowed his head and Carlos saw the silvery tracks of tears drip down his friend's face. He wrapped his arm around the raven haired boy. Logan cried into Carlos' shoulder and fell asleep around 5. Carlos never did hear about the nightmare but he didn't have to. He could guess. Logan was rubbing his arms in his sleep. It must have been the needles._

Carlos was not letting that happen again. Never ever again. Even if he had to walk to the ends of the earth, Logan was never going to feel pain like that again. That's when Kendall knocked on the door gently and asked if it was his turn to talk to Logan. Carlos nodded silently and mouthed that Logan might be asleep. Just then his brown eyes fluttered open and took in Kendall and Carlos looking at him. Carlos stood up silently and Kendall took his seat at the end of the bed. Logan just blinked a few times and just had to blurt out something.  
"Honestly guys, when did I fall into a silent movie? What the heck was with all the sinister nods? Are you sure I'm the one on the drugs?" Logan said in so normally, Kendall just had to laugh. Maybe this would all work out.

...

**TADA! This chapter is dedicated to CheekyBrunette who should note that I finished this chapter 1 hour and 53 minutes after she sent me a message. Just to let you know. I am truly sorry for leaving this story for so long but don't worry. I am back for good! I love all you reviewers and you know it! *Magic cookies make their rounds among reviewers* Yay! Review, review, review! Or I will have to make the next chapter entirely in Gaidhlig and I shall laugh cruelly after posting it!**

**Our death ray doesn't seem to be working right. I'm standing right in it, and I'm not dead yet.**

**Elli x**


	23. Chapter 23: Recovery

...  
Recovery  
...

"So...how are you doing?" Kendall Knight asked, concerned for the raven haired boy in the hospital bed in front of him. Logan looked up.  
"Bored. Do you think they would consider investing in a Wii or something? Cos I'm real bored. And hungry. This hospital food is crap. I don't like cheese but they put cheese on my burger anyway. You know what I wish? I wish that Heston Blumenthal would come to this hospital and fix the food here like they did in that children's hospital in England cos this hospital's food is icky. That would be great, would it Kendall?" Logan stopped suddenly and looked at Kendall with great big eyes. Kendall's brain stalled.  
"Yeah, I guess that would be cool. Hey Logie-" Logan cut him off.  
"Yeah! It would be cool but the cameras would suck because I hate cameras. I hate getting my picture taken at school too. Do you remember that time at school when we were 8 and Carlos fell in a mud puddle outside school and his whole school uniform went dark brown and Mrs Garcia couldn't get rid of it and he had to go to school for his photo in his big brothers clothes?" Logan stopped again. Kendall was weirded out. Did the torture do something to his brain?  
"Uh huh but Logan, what did the doctors give you, do you remember?" Kendall pushed, not waiting until Logan started on another one of his highly unusual rants. Carlos was usually the one to go off on tangents all the time. Logan looked up to the ceiling and frowned.  
"Morphine, antibiotics and something for combating infections. I don't remember the name. It was really long though. Like that guy we met when we were 12. You know, Andrew Oliver Jackson..." Kendall had drowned out Logan's babble for a while. So it must be the morphine making him go a _little_ bit crazy. This would make excellent blackmail material though. Kendall grinned evilly but thought against it when he imagined the look on Logan's face when he found out or (knowing his luck) the video/ voice recorder and/or photos would be sent around the Palmwoods. He probably wouldn't leave the flat for weeks. He did before. Literally. He wouldn't leave the flat. Not even for practise. Gustavo went nuts and tried to drag Logan to Rocque Records but Logan...attacked him viciously and took off into the Panic Room, locking and barricading the door behind him. Don't ask what he managed to barricade the door with but he somehow managed it. James, Kendall and Carlos eventually coaxed Logan out using chocolate (he had been in the Panic Room for at least 4 hours) and the promise that they would personally go round the Palmwoods and delete every copy of the picture in the ten mile radius. Which they did but Logan was still in a mood with them for at least a week afterwards. Kendall wished he could talk to the normal Logan. The Logan that would be more concerned with him than with his injuries. This Logan looked like the normal Logan but the personality was all mixed up. Kendall knew that it wasn't Logan's fault, that it was the pain killers running rampant around his blood stream that were to blame. Logan's eyes were starting to clear from the drugs though. His eyes were focusing on things but they were still a bit hazy.  
"K...Kendall? What's...what's going on? I know I'm in hospital but when did Carlos morph into you? I swear he was just sitting there..." Logan's eyes found the tube sticking out of his wrist and then he followed it up to the dispenser.  
"Oh...I guess it's on a timer." So when Carlos was about to leave, the drugs had been set through his system so he couldn't comprehend that Carlos had gone and Kendall that come in. The last thing he coherently remembered was Carlos talking to him. Logan grinned at Kendall.~  
"Sooo...how are you?" Kendall laugh suddenly.  
"You're lying in hospital with a heart monitor and various tubes attached to you and you're asking how I am?" Logan blushed and scratched the back of his head.  
"Yeah...well...I was worried! And my injuries aren't _that_ bad." Kendall blinked at Logan.  
"You have a bullet hole in your foot." He said deadpan. Logan just looked at his foot.  
"Yeeaaah but if in twenty years, I am the only one with a bullet shaped scar, I will eat your beanie." Kendall laughed and clutched the beanie on his head in mock worry.  
"Not my beanie! Anything but my beanie!" Kendall babbled and pushed himself away from Logan's bed. Logan laughed but not his normal laugh. This laugh was weaker and wheezy. Afterwards, Logan had to clear his throat.  
"Ugh...Sore throat. Must be from all the yelling at you idiots I do." Logan smiled. Kendall smiled back but underneath he was worried. Was it just a cough or was it like that fateful day at Rocque Records when this whole thing started? Logan wasn't worried about it but Logan could hide anything. Well, most things. James and Carlos popped their heads through the door.  
"Can we come in? We're not allowed to sit outside on our own anymore." James said brightly as Carlso had just waltzed in, not waiting for an answer from the blonde and the dark haired teens.  
"Well apparently there is rule in hospitals against riding the crash carts down the hall way that the doctor guys didn't mention...hey! Cookies!" Carlos explained, ignoring Logan and Kendall face palming and dived for a basket of cookies beside Logan. Logan snatched them away at the last minute and read the label sticking out the side.  
""From Katie and Mama Knight. Get well soon, Logan!" Oh, I was wondering who gave me those. That was nice of them...hey, Kendall where are your mum and Katie? I haven't seen them lately." Logan asked, tossing a chocolate cookie in Carlos' direction. Kendall placed a hand behind his neck and smiled softly.  
"They haven't been here because Katie is scared that you'll be really, really hurt." Logan took a double take. Katie? Katie Knight? Katie Knight was scared about Logan? She sent a good portion of her time taking the mickey out of Logan. In fact it was one of the favourite pastimes for many of the residents of the Palmwoods hotel. They all liked Logan but a few things he did and said were just asking to be exploited in a cruel and hilarious manner. Come on, we all know a person like this.  
"Scared that I'll be really hurt? She does know that I am OK now, right?" The guilty faces told all.  
"She doesn't know I'm OK now? Are three all blondes? Kendall I can excuse but seriously! Hang on...hand me your mobile, James." This was particularly evil of Logan because James needed his phone to live just like his swagger. If he didn't check his texts every 5 minutes, James would probably have a heart attack from withdrawal. Logan grinned sweetly and extended his hand. James looked mournfully at his little mobile and handed it over. James honestly looked like he was going to cry. Logan dialled the number for the flat and put the phone on speaker.  
"They will be there righ- Oh hi Mrs Knight!" Logan half asked when the other side of the line picked up.  
"Logan honey! You're awake! Are you OK? Is everyone else there? How is your leg? Do you know when you're coming home yet? What did the doctors say? Have you heard about-"  
"Mum. He can't answer all your questions at once. Jeez, give the poor dude some time to think!"  
"Kendall Knight, you behave. Now, Logan honey, are you OK?"  
"Umm...I guess so. I mean, I have to have all the medicine and that but I feel OK right now...how is everyone back home?" Logan asked flustered. He didn't like to be centre of attention. He like hiding behind his friends a lot of the time especially in singing. Because Logan had a higher voice than everyone else in the group, his voice stood out against the others so Logan tried to sing more quietly and hide behind the other boys' vocals. It had worked for a while until Gustavo had picked up on it and made Logan sing out more. Which annoyed Logan a bit because he didn't feel comfortable singing outright.  
"Oh, that's great! I'll have to come down and visit you with Katie soon. Katie will be so happy to hear that you're feeling better." Mrs Knight's sunny moody was infectious but Logan still frown.  
"There's no need if it's a bother..." The other boys looked at their smaller friend in disbelief. Did he really thi9nk they weren't going to bother with him? Even when he was hurt so badly and in hospital? His issues ran deeper than everyone thought. This kid needed a therapist. A world class therapist. And a couple of hugs and lollipops wouldn't go amiss either. Logan did look a little paler and leaner if possible. His collar bone stuck out sickeningly against his white skin. The others knew that he wasn't being fed by his father when he was being..."held hostage" by his father but he shouldn't be so thin now.  
"Logan. Haven't you been eating?" James asked the raven haired boy as Kendall took the phone outside to talk to his mother.  
"Y-yeah. Course I have. What makes you say that?" Logan asked, stuttering slightly. Tell tale sign.  
"You're lying, Logan Mitchell. You haven't been eating, have you?" Logan blushed gently but against his pale skin it was as if a blood vessel had just exploded in his cheeks.  
"Well...my dad didn't give me any food and I don't like the hospital food...I ate a few of the cookies though!" Logan pushed back, trying to defend himself even a little bit. James face palmed while Carlos just rolled his eyes.  
"A few cookies isn't going to help you any! You do know Mrs Knight will have a field day with this?" James countered as he knocked on the door for Kendall to come back in.  
"Don't tell him! He'll kill me! Or he'll force feed me some pasta or something!" Logan panicked trying to get up but all the wires prevented him. He was helpless against the tidal wave of babying that was soon going to smush him.  
"Oh Kendall! I have something to tell you about Logan! Guess what! He hasn't eaten anything since...oh, he was kidnapped?" James then stood back from the door and awaited the outburst.  
"WHAT?" Apparently Mama Knight had heard that as well. Logan hid his face.  
"Logan, what the fuck does James mean you haven't eaten? Tell me he's joking." Kendall lent over the end of Logan's bed, phone still in hand.  
"Umm...he's joking?" Kendall blinked and lifted the phone slowly to his ear.  
"Sorry mum, gotta call you back." He hung up and tossed the phone back to James who had to repress the urge to scream like a girl in joy as he quickly went to check on his texts.  
"Now. You. Food. Eat." Kendall stated with no room for objection. Logan squirmed and try=ied to push himself deeper under the covers. This wasn't going to go well...

...

"I am NOT eating that!"  
"Yes, you are. Look, it's all packed with vitamins and stuff!" Kendall tried to plead with his best friend while holding a spoonful of orange gloop.  
"I don't give a shit! It looks like a melted carrot!"  
"..." Kendall looked away for a few seconds.  
"What? OK, I am so not eating that. I don't care if Jesus indorses it, I'm not eating melted carrot and possible other things!" Logan shouted, slightly muffled from the hand tightly placed over his mouth. This was a very odd thing to happen. Logan was hospital, Kendall was trying to feed the unwilling to co-operate Logan while his other friends were killing themselves laughing at the scene in front of them.  
"Come on, Logan. Just four mouthfuls then you can have a cookie." Kendall was now resorting to minor bribery.  
"Don't want no damn cookie." Logan was resisting said minor bribery.  
"Two cookies? Of your choice?" Major bribery.  
"Nope. It isn't worth it." Logan was resisting said major bribery.  
"I'm sure Camille would be happy to feed it to you..." Full out blackmail. Logan's eyes widened.  
"Give me the god damn spoon." Logan said, scowl planted firmly on his face. He did not need his personal stalker here right now, at this moment in time. Kendall grinned in his victory and handed over the heaped spoon, watching carefully as Logan shoved the spoon in his mouth. Logan gagged.  
" It tastes horrible! It's like bile and washing up liquid mixed together!"  
"You've tasted bile and washing up liquid mixed together or are you using to separate occasions and using artistic licence to-"Kendall asked, in a mockingly pitying voice when Logan snapped.  
"No I haven't ever taste washing up liquid and I've never tasted bile after I have thrown it up and if you could just leave me alone! I...I need..." Logan's eyelids fluttered and from his sitting position, he started to fall forward. Kendall caught him quickly and despite Logan being so small; his sudden weight did hinder Kendall a bit until two other pairs of hands took some of the pressure off of him. Logan was now lying in bed and Kendall noticed that the bag that had held some of Logan's medicine was now significantly more empty.  
"Oh, I guess it was Logan's medicine time. I wonder why he was knocked out though..." Kendall grinned until a few thought pushed their way into his brain. What if Logan was having a reaction to the meds? What if this was really bad? Just then a doctor came in. He was tall with dark skin and short black hair.  
"Hello there. I'm Doctor Arios, Logan Mitchell's doctor. Oh. I thought he was awake..." The doctor frown and the boys didn't like the look of that frown. Carlso spoke up quietly.  
"Well, ya see, Doctor, Logan was awake but then after he got some of his medicine," Carlso pointed to the tube inserted in Logan's arm before continuing, "And then he just conked out on us! Is he OK?" Carlos' deeply set fear came to poke out its ugly head. The doctor walked over to Logan's machines and was reading off some things quietly under his breath before he turned and smiled reassuringly.  
"He's fine. The mixture of the medicine and the fact that all this must be tiring him out must have taken its toll on him. He'll be fine. I'll come back when he's awake, OK?" With that, the doctor left, leaving Carlos, Kendall and James with their now sleeping friend. The childlike way he slept made the boy's inane need to protect him flare up. They wouldn't leave their Logie again. No one, _just no one_, was getting to hurt their Logie again.

...

**AWWWW! Cute Logan...*Huggles*  
Love and peace and serenity to Logan Henderson Is Mine, a paper-a person-a promise, mandy124, xBleepblapbloopx , chanson, Cooperbear22, 2 kool to spell "kool" right, Musiclovesbest, MiSs-vIcToRy96, squoctobird, femaleodd, fdnjskfdsjgkd, Milkamoo97, G.N Affinity-Chan, princessabbie10, Melinda Grazz, .thing and CheekyBrunette!  
chanson: Because I forced a lisp on Logan in an earlier chapter, I decided to afflict him again. I don't know if he actually has problems saying the letter R but to my (weird, messed up) accented brain, it sounds reeeeeaaallly weird. ;)  
: CheekyBrunette: Dude! What happened to my nice long reviews? Am I being deprived for not updating more often? Probably..OHWELL!  
G.N Affinity-Chan: I know how you feel about Harry Potter. I wished so hard that the ending of it was a dream and that he would wake up at Hogwarts in the morning. I got even MORE annoyed when my friend, Matthew, was going to Harry Potter Land and he said he wouldn't bring me back anything. Bastard... Don't worry about this thing ending though! I can think up even MORE horrifyingly creepy and disturbing things to attack Logan with! Doesn't that sound fun?**

**Sombreros, boots and bandoleers. A desperately cliché battle looms between the tragically uncool, the undeniably hot... and these two idiots...me and Jas need to find day jobs or something to do. Fast.**

**Elli x**


	24. Chapter 24: Setback

...  
Setback  
...

Logan was dreaming some weeeird things. Weird pretty swirly colours to be exact.  
"Heh. Must be the morphine still knocking around my noggin. Let's just kick back and wait this out..."  
Then everything changed and the weird swirly colours took on a shape. The dream became almost real and Logan was sure he had seen this before. The dream was in a big city with all the lights off. Logan walked down the unlit street until a sound of footsteps made him stop. Footsteps? Logan turned around quickly. No one was there. But still the footsteps still rang out slowly. Then the streetlamps all went on at once. Logan was blinded by the light. He tried to shield his eyes.  
"Aww, are the bright lights hurting Little Logan's eyes?" Logan froze inside and his stomach did cartwheels. He knew that voice and particularly that tone of voice. He started to tremble softly.  
"Too bad then isn't it?" The voice sounded closer. Logan ran. He sprinted quickly into the nearest building. He bounced right of the locked door and looked up inside the building. There sat Kendall who was looking away from Logan.  
"Kendall! Let me in! Please!" Kendall turned to look at Logan and went over to the glass but he couldn't hear his cries for help. Logan could see in the reflection Carlos hammering on the building opposite, trying in vain to help Logan but the cruelly locked glass stayed intact. A puzzled look overcame his features as he tried to say something then alarm. Logan turned. A throwing dagger missed his face by inches and imbedded itself in the glass. Only then could Logan hear what Kendall was saying.  
"_Run!"_ It sounded like Kendall but like Logan was standing far away from him. It echoed awkwardly in Logan's ears. He didn't dwell on this though. He ran. Another building. Again he couldn't get in. James stood in this building and he was desperately trying to open the door. Then he ducked and another dagger found itself into the glass door, even closer to Logan this time. He swore he could feel it rush past his face. Logan chocked back a scream and sprinted into a dead end. He turned to be face to face with his father. His father was literally millimetres from his own face. He could feel his hot breath on his face. Logan was terrified and tried to calm down. _  
"It's only a dream. It's only a dream. It's only a-"_  
"You think you're dreaming, huh, Logie? Well, you're wrong. This is definitely real." A knife twirled in his hand. He pulled it down Logan's cheek slowly, watching the satin red liquid stain his cheek in one fluid movement. Logan tried to turn away but his father gripped his face tightly and sliced his face again. This time so close to the last cut in stung doubly. The tenderness of the skin forced a few tears from Logan and the salt stung uncomfortably the in a flash everything changed. He was 9. In that god damn kitchen. With his father. David Mitchell was gaining on Logan, looking even taller and even more intimating than ever. Logan's back knocked on the cupboard behind him and having nowhere else to go he slide down the cupboard and balled himself up on the floor, begging for this dream to end. His father dropped a fist down on his head and Logan's head bobbed and he fell forward, coming out of his crouch. His father grasped his arm and dragged him over to the stove. The hot hob was still a sickening red and Logan knew what was coming next. The dial was turned to the maximum heat and his father's face was lit up by the red in a horror film worthy manner. Then his father pushed his hand down. Logan screamed out and David Mitchell turned on him. He wasn't allowed to scream. If he did, there would be consequences. Logan's arm snapped cleanly under his father's iron grip. His left arm hung limp and lifeless and if it wasn't for David Mitchell supporting his son's body upright, Logan would have fallen to the floor. The burn was so painful; the heat penetrated his hand and travelled up his arm, pulling on nerves and causing pain the entire time.  
"Please! I'm sorry, dad. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." The sad thing was that Logan couldn't remember what had caused his father to resort to such a cruel beating but did evil people need reasons?  
Logan screamed and awoke covered in a cold sweat.

...

Logan screamed and sat bolt upright. His scream alerted everyone in the room of his awakening. Loudly.  
"Jesus, Logan! Scared the living shit out of me." James said; hand on chest as if the shock had caused it to beat faster. Logan didn't listen; he just shook his head and pulled harshly on the wires on his wrist.  
"Got to get out of here...too many people...I need air...I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." Logan mumbled and pulled the wires out of his arm ignoring the sickening squelch as he did so of wire being pulled through flesh. Logan tried to push himself out of the bed but Kendall caught him.  
"No! No, I'm sorry, please don't..." Panic attack. Logan pushed himself away from Kendall and sat rigid in the furthest away corner of the bed. The three other boys looked sickened and worried as the black haired teen curled himself into a tiny ball and rocked himself back and forth gently. The three friends didn't know what to do to help him. If they tried to touch him they knew that he wouldn't see nice, happy, friendly Carlos, Kendall and James but scary abusive David Mitchell probably with some bad ass looking knife or some instrument of torture. Logan was scared, he needed help and the poor guys couldn't do anything to help him. Then Kendall remembered something.  
"Hey, Logan? Peanuts." Logan heard the word and slowly but surely, Logan started to calm down. You see, when Logan realised that he was having these panic attacks, he made a codeword. A word that would seem so out of place in Logan's scary memories that, hopefully, it would help him calm down. The four boys had decided on peanuts for the simple reason which was that Carlos was eating a bag of peanuts at the time. So, when Kendall used the codeword the dream world started to fall away, reality shone through and the normal Logan emerged, terrified but at least he was in the real world now, away from nightmares and memories that would best be forgotten.  
"Guys? I had a nightmare and...and..." Logan welled up with fresh tears. Fear started to grip his heart again and he had to check his hand for the imaginary angry red welt that his father had inflicted at one point. Then Logan let out a soft gasp, his eyes fluttered closed and fell forward right into Carlos. Carlos caught him easily and proceeded to lie him down in a more comfortable position than sat up straight, leaning on him for support.  
"Medicine time again?" Carlos asked carefully (as careful as Carlos Garcia can be) placing Logan back in his bed. Kendall looked up at the drip expecting the four zeros to be flashing at him. Instead there was twenty more minutes on the timer.  
"Guys? Logan going down like this...I don't think it's the meds. There's something else going on." Kendall said, his voice going higher in pitch. Honest to god, did god have some sick obsession with picking on Logan? He's in hospital because of sickening injuries that his own _father_ inflicted on him and now some unknown disease was attacking his insides, making him slip in and out of unconsciousness. Then another thing hit James.  
"Guys, this has happened before. Oh my god, this has happened before. Remember at Rocque Records when he collapsed in the sound booth? Maybe it wasn't just a freak thing. I mean when he was with his dad, we saw that he was always going to sleep. I mean, I thought he just needed rest but maybe..." Maybe it was something a lot more dangerous. The three boys had promised to keep Logan safe but how to you keep someone safe from something you can't see?

...

**OOOHHHH! Sweet bujebus. Even I didn't see that one coming! That's because I was wearing the violence hat and the violence hat writes itself. **_**All obey the violence hat! **_** Hey! Knock that off! **_**Sorry.**_** Ok! Back to sanity...**

**Thanks to every single reviewer, alerter, favourite storyer and reader! Every single one of you are freaking awesome and I would give you all a hug if you weren't...you know, probably asleep right now on the other side of the world. Because that would be stalkerish. **

**I just had one of those "what the hell am I doing" moments, over. **

Elli x


	25. Chapter 25: Narcolepsy

...  
Narcolepsy  
...

Logan was down again, this time to in a nice restful sleep but a fitful and unrest full state of mind. He was thrashing in his sleep and constantly yelling out. His painful screams pierced his friends hard. They flinched when he screamed. They knew he couldn't help it but they wished and prayed he would stop. Stop being in pain. Stop this thing ravaging his body and mind. Stop this weird deep sleeping thing and waken up. But he couldn't. Why no one knew. Not even the doctors. Many doctors had come and gone, taking meaningless test that return inconclusive. Then they started talking about "unforeseen brain damage". Kendall snapped.  
"Logan doesn't have brain damage! He was fine, awake then your fucking meds did something to him. It all started the first time the drugs went through his system! It's your fault he's like this! You did something to him!" Kendall stood up and screamed in their impassive uncaring faces. Logan wasn't a person with this weird disease, he was an annoying puzzle. The sooner it was solved, the better. That's all he was to them and Kendall saw it. It burned inside that someone could treat his Logan like that, like he was just an annoyance. If that annoyance wasn't alive today, Kendall would be in a youth detention centre, Carlos would be in hospital with serious injuries and James would have become a conceited big headed arsehole. Logan kept them grounded, kept them normal and semi sane. He might be the sane one but even he had his moments. Like when he thought that the Daleks were coming to get him after a Doctor Who marathon or when he randomly planned murder when he was bored. Particularly his teacher's murder when in school. But now without their "lead sanity weight", the boys had become shadows of their former selves. Kendall was snapping at everyone, Carlos was constantly worried and anxious while James couldn't stay still and had to constantly go get things. Carlos watched all the pressure mounting up as Kendall screamed and James held him back from attacking someone. The doctors were good people but Carlos couldn't stand their cold professionalism any longer. He left the room as silently as he could and hoped that no one had seen him. Carlos walked down the darkened hall. It was night again. All the day visitors and hubbub had died down and now the silently working night staff took their place. Carlos carried down the dim corridor ignoring the squeak of his trainers scuffing along the cleaned within an inch of its life floor. Then he reached the door at the end of the corridor. He opened the door and went into the lush green garden just outside the hospital. He needed to clear his head. Everything was just mounting up and his brain couldn't take much more stress. Logan would hate all that noise in his room. He normally got up kinda early but that didn't mean much, he never ever slept. Sleep was illusive when Logan was around. His brain was always making new ideas and trying to block out the memories of what happened before his eleventh birthday. When he slept, his brain relaxed and the memories came out to play and attacked his sanity almost. Carlos wished he was actually a hypnotist and then he make Logan forget. But he couldn't and that hurt even more. He might have been ten when he figured out what was happening but surely he had seen something that might have let Logan get saved earlier. But no. He didn't remember. He wished he did. One thing he did remember though. They never did ever go to Logan's house. No wonder, Carlos thought bitterly wrapping his Helly Hanson jacket closer to his body. The cool air was nice on his too hot face but it still made him feel cold. He hoped he didn't catch a cold. That's the last thing he needed. Carlos smiled. Him and Logan were the most clumsy and accident prone people ever. If they ever spent a lot of time together, one of them would have to go to the emergency room at one point. The nurses got used to this and have begun to anticipate the regular visits. They even stopped asking how it happened which was especially useful the time Logan came in with a broken arm and a broken blood vessel where a skateboard had hit his shin and Carlos had come in unconscious with a goldfish bowl stuck on his head. The looks they got on the road not to mention the difficulty of actually getting Carlos in the low roofed car. They managed it though. The four boys have achieved a lot during their stint in LA. Just as he was thinking about the things he had done (he was currently at the Super Parrot debacle) when Kelly and Gustavo got out of a pulled over car. Kelly's dark hair was almost invisible in the night sky but there was no missing Gustavo's almost luminous white track suit. Kelly caught sight of Carlos sitting on a bench and ran over; tripping over clumps of grass her high heels had pulled up.  
"Carlos! What are you doing out here? It's freezing! In. Now."Kelly commanded him. Carlos just blinked a few times then stood up and wrapped Kelly in a massive hug. He needed someone down to earth and bossy to keep him in his normal state of mind.  
"Don't go." Carlos murmured as he hugged Kelly tightly. Kelly returned the hug knowing that Carlos was taking this very hard.  
"We heard he's getting worse. Is that true?" Kelly asked after Carlos released her and she got back the use of her lungs. Carlos nodded, tears slowly dripping down his cheeks.  
"Dog! Where are the other dogs?" Gustavo asked as he came over. Carlos turned around and the light bounced over his tear tracked face. Gustavo's heart panged in sympathy. He might not show it too often but he needed those boys. He did care about them and they were like his nephews. He couldn't stand watching them hurt like this but he had to go to the hospital.  
"I-in Logan's...room." Prison cell fitted better. He couldn't leave and he was stuck there for a possibly long time. "Here, I'll show you where he is." Carlos said, turning on his heel and walked inside. Kelly and Gustavo stayed behind for a second or two and looked at each other worriedly. This wasn't Carlos, this was an imposter. He had no bounce, no energy, no cheekiness radiating off him like heat waves. He wasn't wearing his helmet either. That had a significant meaning in itself. Carlos wore his helmet when he was going to do something dangerous or daring. This limp Carlos didn't have the same fearlessness. This Carlos was scared. And that freaked them out. A lot. If this was what Carlos was like, what were the other boys like? Carlos waited at the door and yelled out for them to hurry up. The record producer and the assistant listened and frowned at the tremble and worry in his voice. A tremble and worry that just should never be there.

...

The hallways were white and clean and...eerie. The silence in such a huge place was unheard of. Even Gustavo's mansion had more noise than this place. Kelly and Gustavo were following Carlos and trying not to look into the rooms they passed. If they did, pity would overcome them and probably the fear of what state Logan was in would attack their courage. They didn't want to see Logan all weak and in pain but they couldn't just ignore this happening. What if he didn't get better? What if they weren't going to see him again? Just how would they live with themselves? Not that that was going to happen. It wasn't. Logan was going to get better. He had to. He was Logan. He had gotten stuck on the vent system of Rocque Records at one point and had to pull himself around the system towards a opening. Unfortunately, the opening wasn't on the ground floor, it was on the second floor up and Logan fell out. In to a wheelie bin. Everyone rushed out and were worried but when they got out, Logan was killing himself laughing. _  
"That was awesome! Who wants to do it again?"_ Of course, everyone grabbed Logan before he could recreate the accident that caused him to get stuck in there in the first place (it had involved the lift breaking down. You fill in the rest). Then Carlos stopped and looked in the window sadly. Kelly guessed this was Logan's room. She was right as he pushed open the door and walked inside. Gustavo walked in first and almost turned right back out but Kelly was right behind him and she had already pushed eyes filled with pitying tears that she refused to let fall. It was just...wrong. everything was wrong. It was as if they had walked into an alternate dimension where the normal thing had been turned on its head. The boys were the same but they weren't in a way. James didn't look like James. He sat right in the corner nearest Logan, just starting to doze off. His light brown hair stood up on end, a stark contrast to the normal perfection Gustavo usually show every single day. His eyes were tired, his skin paler than usual but not deathly pale like Logan's was at the moment and his clothes rumpled. He looked like someone who was beaten, someone who had given up hope. Kendall didn't look like Kendall either. He was right beside the bed, just beside James. His hair was ruffled, his clothes creased and his expression...he looked wild. Like he was daring you to come closer and to even try to hurt Logan. All his movement were hostile towards the nurse beside Logan's bedside. The nurse ignored him and took Logan temperature by ramming a thermometer into Logan's ear. Logan flinched but the nurse gently held him down. All of this must be so normal to her that she was blocking out Kendall's angry glares, James' concentration on what she was doing and Carlos' inability to stay still. She left after writing her notes on Logan's chart. Logan. Logan looked...dead. If the heart monitor wasn't there then Kelly would have feared that he was already dead. His skin was so pale, his chest barely looked like it was moving and his hair was plastered to his head by a sheen of sweat that covered him completely. There was no doubt he was ill. Deathly ill. He was moving constantly, fitfully sleeping. He couldn't get the rest he needed. This wasn't Logan. This Logan didn't have that shine in his eyes when he grinned. This Logan didn't have that cute look of shock when something didn't go right the way he thought it would. This Logan didn't talk using his hands in such an entertaining way. This Logan didn't jump up and down when he got excited. This Logan did accidently initiate fruit juice wars. Kendall looked up from Logan's lightly frowning face and noticed Gustavo and Kelly. A sliver of shocked surprise ran across his face momentarily then the shielded impassive mask returned, the one that didn't belong on Kendall's face.  
"So...now what?" Kendall asked, his voice dead from shouting. No one could answer. Then a tired familiar voice piped up.  
"Well, a glass of water would be nice." His brown eyes glittered softly. The spark was there and Kendall, James and Carlos brightened by like flames. This was Logan everyone knew and loved. And he was awake...but for how long this time?

...

**Boo! How was this? Hope you guys liked it! ;D  
CheekyBrunette: I am truly and eternally sorry for ACCIDENTALLY(!) not mentioning you. So, did you like it, all powerful brunette one? You better have! I knocked this one out in at least one hour, just to make it up for you! So I hope you're happy, my Torturey Angsty Twin. Ohh! Horrible Histories! ****  
**_**...Uhh...yeah, you do that, Elli...This is the violence hat again and Elli told me to say that she "hearts" all her reviewers...I have no idea what she's on about. And now she's singing the Prince Charles the Second song...don't expect to get anything coherent from her in the near future. **_

**I ate a radio for science! **_**Told you so. **_

**Elli x**


	26. Chapter 26: Uncertainty

...  
Uncertainty  
...

Logan was awake...only just. His eyes were still filled with sleep, he wore such a sleepy smile and he was obviously unaware of what had happened just hours ago. Completely unaware. That was rather scary. Then his brow furrowed.  
"What's everyone looking at me weird for?" Logan asked trying to raise himself up to see everyone. He placed his wrist down and yelped in pain. He raised his wrist into his line of sight as he lay down in bed again. A fresh wound shaped almost exactly like the insert needle of his IV.  
"What...what happened? Guys, someone tell me! What. Happened?" No one could meet his eyes. Then as if by some weird psychic link; Gustavo, Kelly, James and Carlos left the room leaving Kendall and Logan alone. Kendall was the leader, the oldest, the responsible one. He had the awful task of tell his best friend that for a few moments he was completely delusional and then tried to run away in his panic. Not to mention the nightmares, the murmurs and the fits he had had. But Kendall didn't mind. He knew he would have to tell Logan what had happened at one point so he had prepped himself and made a mental speech. Kendall sighed softly and began with, "Logan-" but Logan himself cut him off.  
"Kendall, I'm so sorry." Whoa whoa whoa. Not part of Kendall's mental speech.  
"Say what?" Kendall asked, brain stalling. This wasn't on the agenda. This was just plain...wrong. Why did Logan apologise? He couldn't apologise for something that those god damn doctors did to him. It was their fault. After the first dose of drugs...that's when this started. Kendall was allowed to blame the doctors. They were supposed to help Logan and now Logan was in an even worse state. Logan looked everywhere except at Kendall.  
"Well, if I ripped this out of my arm then I guess I did worse things too...I probably scared you all as well. That's why I'm sorry. I never meant to drag you all into this. I..I-I-I..." Logan's eyes closed tightly. Kendall immediately ceased his mental speech.  
"Logan? Logie. Logie, what's the matter?" Kendall pleaded with the raven haired boy who was now clutching his chest, biting back screams with little prevail.  
"I hurt, Kendall, It hurts so much. Everywhere. Oh God, I'm going to die, don't let me die, Kendall. I'm going to die. Oh God, it hurts!" Logan yelled out, voice clipped with pain. He started mumbling away to himself ominously. Then his head lolled sickeningly. Kendall knew what that meant.  
"Oh no no no no no. Logan, hang on. Come on, stay awake. You...you know what happens when you fall asleep. Logan!" Logan couldn't hear him though. He was already too far gone into his twisted nightmares and no one could wake him up right now. No matter how much they or he wanted them to. Then, the doctors came in. Different doctors. A tall blonde guy, a petite Russian looking woman and the dark skinned Dr Arios.  
"Kendall? What happened to Logan?" Dr Arios asked, voice gentle because despite having gain a minuscule amount of trust from Kendall, he still knew that it two seconds flat it could be trashed and he might unleash his anger out on them again. No one wanted the loyal friend to go to jail for assaulting a member of hospital staff and the pain, suffering and stress it would bring to Logan...it would minimise changes of survival to less than 10% and that just wasn't an answer.  
"Hez vitalz are OK for now but ze damage to hez brain iz still unknown..." The woman said, grasping Logan's chart at the end of his bed. Her thick accent was filled with pity. This boy was too young for this. He could have a terrible life changing disease...he was 16! No one deserved to have their life impacted with such a terrifying disease or ailment.  
"Kendall, Miss America over here is Doctor Rosoff and blondey here is Doctor Samuels." Dr Arios nodded at each of his companions. Doctor Rosoff sent Kendall a quick bright grin that made her dark eyes shine and Doctor Samuels waved slightly while adjusting Logan's IV line. Then when he followed it to his arm, the raw inflamed skin from where Logan had pulled the wire out of his arm shone brightly against his pale, pale skin.  
"Christ! Jesus, Arios, what the hell did you do to him?" That was the worst thing to have said in Kendall's presence.  
"I'll tell you what you fucking idiots did to him! He was fine until you gave him medicine and now he keeps dropping unconscious! It's your fault! Logan may have pulled that wire out of his own arm but he was in a delirium from YOUR drugs!" Kendall screamed, his anger flaring as he yelled at the blonde doctor who only raised his eyebrows then returned to his job. Kendall couldn't believe it. He had just ignored him. Ignored that it was the doctors who had made Logan this way. Logan had been fine before, happy, talking, being normal. Then right after the first dose of meds, he dropped into unconsciousness. Why weren't they listening? Logan stirred at the sudden noise. He let out an annoyed groan and Kendall slid right over to beside his bedside. If Logan needed Kendall beside him, then that's where Kendall will be.  
"Mmm? Wha? Where's...Kendall? And James? And Carlos? Lemme see them. They'll know what...they'll know what to do...if I'm sick...if no...if no doctors know what to do..." Logan said, muttering weakly, no traces of the burning pain he felt earlier. He opened his hazy brown eyes and watched the room's colours spin then slowly focus. Instead of his friends, he saw a dark haired woman smiling down on him.  
"Good Morning, Mister Mitchell. It's good to have you back in the land of the living." She smiled and disappeared to go fix some wires and a blonde doctor with sleepy eyes took his place.  
"Hey dude, that little beaut was Dr Rosoff and I'm Doctor Samuels. Just thought you'd like to know. How's it going?" He asked, soft sleepy smile sliding onto his face then he went and Kendall bounced into view.  
"Oh my god, Logan. Try to stay awake this time, OK?" Logan didn't answer but he did try to swat Kendall's beaming face away from him as he pushed his upper body up. "  
"Dude, is asking for help honestly that hard for you?" Kendall asked, sniggering as he lifted his way to light friend into a sitting position. Logan closed his eyes tightly.  
"Owie. Bright lights. Come on guys! Waking up dude here." Logan whined. Kendall rolled his eyes and gave Dr Arios a pleading look.  
"Can you get those lights for His Majesty?" Kendall asked, eyes bright and glittering. He had no traces of the anger that had transpired only minutes ago. When Logan was around, the three boys just seemed to...lighten up. Like all their stresses were being pulled away and they could relax. They babied him, ridiculed him (playfully), hugged him, talked to him, helped him, needed him and loved him like a brother. They were four boys but they were one unit. When one was gone, the others just...fell apart. They needed Logan to stop them from falling apart. The three doctors watched as the tall, muscular blonde tenderly lifted the weaker, lighter, dark haired boy and set him down, fussing over him in concern.  
"Kendall, seriously, I'm **fine**. At least I will be when you leave me alone! Jeez dude, what's with all the girliness today? Are you trying to tell me something?" Logan asked, voice getting stronger from use. He was recovering...for now. The uncertainty was still there. The looming question of "How long will this last this time?" Kendall wasn't even acknowledging the doctors and their looming tests but was concentrating on the patient, the one guy who was never allowed to be sick again. Ever, ever again. If he was ever sick again, Kendall was just going to go "bye bye brain" for a little while. He was feeling quite hyper on relief right now, laughing and smiling. This was such a nice feeling, this relief. Kendall didn't care that Logan was hooked up to more than 10 machines right now. All he cared about was that Logan was awake and happy.  
"Logie, I'm just worried about you. You have been unconscious for most of the day today." Kendall said, unable to keep a smile from winding its way around his words. Logan shrugged.  
"Yeah...well...I was tired? Drugged? I had to catch up on all my missed sleep at one point? We insomniacs are an odd breed." Logan answered casually. Weird. Normally Logan would be having a massive freak out by now. "I mean, this isn't real, right?" Oh boy. Now how was this going to be explained? Logan thought he was asleep. That he was probably at the flat, in perfect health. This revelation would probably lead to a massive freak out that he wouldn't want the doctors to see.  
"Umm...guys? Could you leave us for just a bit?" The doctors looked uncomfortable about leaving their newly awaken patient but Kendall's big green puppy dog eyes could sway and melt a heart of ice. The three doctors shuffled out and waited in the hall. Kendall turned back to Logan. His brown eyes were wide and his breathing was hitched.  
"Oh god, oh god, oh goddd...I thought I got out of here. I thought the nightmares were over, Oh God. I thought...I thought..." Logan was panicking and the machines were reacting to this. The heart beat steadily went faster as Logan shook and curled himself up.  
"Logan? What's the matter? Logan!" Kendall asked, unfortunately for Kendall, Logan's mind was replaying his most recent nightmare...the one that was too real. The one that was attacking his brain and tearing up his sanity, piece by tiny piece.

...

**WHAAAA! Dude. This was not how I imagined this story going. I am confused. When did Oliver gain a mind of his own and start writing BTR fanfiction? Anyways,  
I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE Logan Henderson Is Mine, a paper-a person-a promise, mandy124, xBleepblapbloopx , chanson, Cooperbear22, 2 kool to spell "kool" right, Musiclovesbest, MiSs-vIcToRy96, squoctobird, femaleodd, fdnjskfdsjgkd, Milkamoo97, G.N Affinity-Chan, princessabbie10, Melinda Grazz, .thing and CheekyBrunette! This chapter is dedicated to anyone who has had a bad day today. Feel better by reading some evil torture! I swear it works!  
CheekyBrunette: See! I used a few idea of yours! Hope I did it the way you imagined it would work! :D**

**I swear! Does no one know where I'm getting these awesome quotes? It's one of the best TV shows EVA! ;D **

**Since we're here anyway, can we film a horror movie?  
Elli x**


	27. Chapter 27: Unsettled

...  
Unsettled  
...

Logan couldn't breathe. It felt like an elephant was sat on his chest. Not cool. Logan was in his hospital bed, unable to inhale. Inhale the sweet life giving oxygen which drifted in front of him, mocking him. He couldn't scream for help, he couldn't cry out, he was basically immobile. He needed to breathe. He was going to die. Then a slight twist in his brain told him different.  
"This is just a dream, Logan. If it wasn't, you'd be unconscious right now. Another thing, if it was real, would the guys leave you alone? For even a second? No because Mama Knight and/or Kendall would slowly and painfully murder them. So just calm down." This was easy enough for his brain to say but his body was still in a state of panic. In his mind, he was dying, slowly and painfully. The breathe wouldn't come so Logan tried to relax, hoping the natural reflex of breathing would kick in. He lay in the dark, lungs contracting further than Logan thought possible. Still no air came. This was a dream. Could you die in dreams? He knew that the guys in that film, Inception, died and woke up but they were murdered in their sleep. Logan was slowly and painfully dying of "natural" causes. Just as Logan felt the dark invade his sight, a large gust of air shocked his throat. Logan gulped the air like water, needing it so much it hurt. He didn't care that he probably looked stupid; the blind panic had lifted all feeling off stupidity off of him. Then he noticed the restraints on his wrists. The thick too tight strips of plastic keeping him lying down on the bed. Logan pulled gently. He winced at the redness of where the plastic had rubbed into his skin. It contrasted so harshly against his pale skin. Then a sickening chuckle from the other side of the room. He knew that laugh anywhere but not with that...tone. Those implications. This wasn't the carefree happy laugh he was used to but a dark laugh, one with dark intent. The person's light blonde hair sat over his green eyes, covering them slightly because he had his head down. His sitting position was normal, relaxed with his ankles crossed. His arms were folded over his chest and he laughed again.  
"Awake already, Logan?" He asked and stood up, making Logan feel smaller than ever. He was also terrified. This might be a dream but dream Kendall was scaring him shitless. Not to mention that he was acting the same way as...as... It clicked. _"Why the hell is my brain so fricking messed up that it imposes poor nice Kendall with my dad's...odd behaviour? Now, whenever Kendall is in the hospital room, I'll be going nuts." _Logan groaned inwardly but on the outside, his eyes were big and watchful. Kendall stopped just beside Logan's bed, cold look flickering around his eyes. The sickeningly cruel grin stayed plastered on his face though.  
"Shoulda stayed asleep, Logan. Now it's time for some fun..." Logan winced at those words. If his was his father's behaviours then he knew what type of fun this twisted version of Kendall had in mind. The question was what form of torture would it be this time? A lit splint answered his question. Burning. Burning was wasn't that bad as some of the other...methods. Logan felt the stinging burn on his restrained arm. Restrained...restrained meant that anything, anything, could happen to him and he couldn't do a thing about it. Logan's eyes widened and he struggled with a new found panic. Dream "Kendall" laughed cruelly, lifting the splint away from his arm.  
"Finally getting it, huh Logan? No way of escaping." A fist found its way straight into Logan abdomen. An extremely strong punch. Logan had the wind knocked out of him and the thought of "_I actually feel sorry for those bullies Kendall punched now..." _Logan's eyes watered as he tried to regain control of his breathing pattern. Another slamming punch to his chest. His precious oxygen was stolen away from him again. Kendall laughed as Logan spluttered and wheezed for air. At least it would be over. At least Logan would wake up as soon as Kendall had left him alone.  
"Logan, Logan, Logan. Did you really think that this would be easy? That I would just beat you up and leave?" Kendall grinned manically and produced a wicked sharp knife. Kendall slid the knife along Logan's arm, not breaking the skin just yet. The cold metal made his skin crawl. He tried not to shiver and break the skin. Kendall grinned harder and pressed down harder, just slicing the skin open. Logan tried to move away while the crimson liquid slid slowly down his arm.  
"Why? Why Kendall? This isn't you. This is some evil shit. It can't be you, Kendall. You wouldn't do anything like this." Logan pleaded as the knife was slowly digging it's way further into his arm. Kendall struck out and quickly sliced a slit in Logan's cheek. The sudden burst of pain made Logan whimper and a few salty tears ran down his face. What a way to put fuel to the fire. The salty tear stung his face so much. Logan was close to just letting the terror, panic and fear take over and scream until he woke up. But of course, being Logan, he bit his lips and didn't utter a single word. Then after a stab or two, Logan broke. His screams reverbed around the hospital room and Logan lay there in pain, back arched as Kendall smiled softly. This was hell. Logan was screaming and hollering for relief now. He didn't care anymore. Pain was becoming a constant. He just couldn't stop. Kendall was just unrelenting with his sharp knife. Logan screamed and screamed and screamed and just wished that he could wake up. Then, the dream shattered into teeny tiny razor sharp pieces. The glass blade sliced Logan open. He cried out.

...

Kendall was scared. Logan was screaming out in pain but this time...this time he was awake. He must have had a terrible dream last time, so bad that it was invading his normal waking thoughts. Invading? Haunting. Attacking his brain or at least that's what it sounded like. Kendall almost didn't want to know what was going on inside his head. Then Logan's head jerked up suddenly. His eyes caught Kendall's and widened. He backed away quickly and as Kendall tried to move closer, Logan shoved himself backwards and whimpered. Logan whispered a few words over and over. Kendall strained to hear.  
"Nooo. No please. Don't... stop. Not the knife...Kendall! Stop!" Kendall reeled back in fear. He was the nightmare. Kendall was the nightmare that had scared Logan so bad that he was shaking in fear. He had to go. He wasn't going to scare poor Logan anymore. Kendall covered his mouth and turned. He took off, unable to stay in the same room as his shivering, shaking best friend. He passed James and Carlos but he didn't stay. They shouted him back, not knowing what had happened. Not knowing that his best friend was terrified of him. He didn't look back. He opened the outside doors and walked out into the cool morning air. It occurred to him that he didn't know what day it was. Or the time. Or how long he had been at the hospital. Kendall slammed his fist into the nearest object, a tree trunk. His fist bit back at him, telling him that the pain was bad. Very bad. But still, he ignored it. As if this tiny pain was anything, anything like the pain Logan had felt in that dream. What a confusing thing that must have been. To be dreaming that his best friend was attacking him, harming him and then awoke to see that exact same best friend sitting beside him, worried and approaching him. Of course, Kendall wasn't wanting to harm Logan in anyway but when you're scared...your brain works...differently. It doesn't stop and think, it just goes for it. That was Logan's worst trait. He was known to act rashly and hell, regret it too much. The guilt just poured straight onto him, drowning him in the dark thoughts. Kendall needed time to breathe, to cool down. He needed some time to think. Logan was getting better, slowly. His dreams were getting less and less and now, since the meds were cut, Logan had been having more conscious, lucid time than ever. But still...all this stress and suffering was coming down, down, down on Kendall like a ton of bricks. He needed time to just relax and cool off. Carlos had already had his mini meltdown. Now it was Kendall's turn. Now, just James was the one with all the painful mounting pressure. Kendall rested his head against cool wood of the tree he had punched earlier. The relief felt a lot better. He felt as if he could...fall asleep for the first time in days. And sleep peacefully. Kendall smiled gently and closed his tired green eyes. The fresh cool LA air warmed him as he finally slipped into the sleep abyss.

...

**Ahhhhh. Well that sucked. That sucked royally. :D And I have a good excuse for not updating! I have a BUCKETLOAD of tests in 3 weeks! Like practise Int 1 and 2s! Honest to god, what school sends out practise tests? My school apparently. Oh well! Love and hugs to my reviewing friends, you all rock awesomely! **

**Don't mess with me, duck. I didn't step on you. *Stern look at SOME people***

**Elli x**


	28. Chapter 28: MIA

...  
M.I.A  
...

James was pacing the length of the hallway. His long legs pushed him around the narrow walkway and when he reached the end, he turned quickly on his heel and carried on walking, dark look still dancing around his eyes. It scared Carlos. He had never ever seen James like this. He had never seen Kendall like that either. It was a scary/confusing mix between being absolutely terrified and super angry. Carlos didn't like it one bit. He looked at Logan who was laying facing to the wall. He occasionally shuddered quickly. Carlos could tell he was crying or at least trying to stop himself from crying. It didn't look like it was working. James turned quickly and strode into Logan's room. Carlos followed slowly, hoping James wouldn't do something he wouldn't regret. Too late. James grabbed Logan by the back of his tee and pulled him back, ignoring Logan's rasping and bugged out eyes. He leaned close to Logan's ear, loud enough for Carlos to hear James' harsh voice hissing, almost spitting out the words.  
"What the hell did you do to him?" James hissed at Logan and Logan's eyes filled with fear. James wasn't seeing any of this. At the moment, Logan was at the same status as a lot of bullies and that meant that it was "OK" to intimidate Logan right now. Kendall was currently AWOL because of Logan so some things needed to be sorted out by James who was standing in for their missing leader. Usually James was compassionate with everyone. He was a real humanitarian. He loved animals too. He had a dog when he was a kid and that dog was the most loved dog. Ever. In the entire world. James cried buckets (literally) when gold old Kit kicked the bucket. But right noe? This was his anger ntalking. His anger of all the pain, suffering and torture he and the others had had forced upon them. It was wrong and it hurt. It hurt inside. James wasn't aware of what he was doing. He didn't know he was currently choking Logan slightly because his grip was too hard. He didn't know Carlos was pleading and crying, pulling at his arm in the hope that he could drag the tall boy away from Logan. He didn't know that Logan was rasping out answers silently and quietly asking to be let go. James' hand released itself and Logan thumped back on the hospital bed, fear prominent in his large chocolate brown eyes.  
"I-I h-had an...another n...n...nightmare and it was about Kendall and..." Logan froze as James' out of control face returned. He flinched and raised his fore arms in the vague hope that would save him. James grabbed Logan's right arm and twisted. Hard. Logan's heart monitor was going absolutely bonkers. It was beeping like crazy. "James" didn't seem to care. He just looked at Logan in a almost sadistic way.  
"Go on." He said, voice filled with detachment. This wasn't James, Logan thought, this was just everything coming to the boil. He'll be fine in a while. Logan hoped.  
"It was about him but I didn't tell him, I panicked and hid and please, don't...don't hurt me, James, please!" Logan was scared. When James got really angry, there was no stopping him and Logan didn't want a broken arm which wasn't too out of the realm of possibility. It was happened before. James "woke up" inside. He looked down at Logan, eyes filled with fearful tears and Carlos, face contorted in sheer terror as his best friend was attacking his other best friend. James stumbled backwards, hand still in its death grip around Logan's arm so he pulled Logan over with him. Logan squealed shrilly, passed caring anymore and he was just so scared. James instantly let go.  
"Oh god...Logan...I...oh my god...I'm so so sorry, Logan...I got to...run." James shot off, just like Kendall had done around an hour ago. He still hadn't come back though. That was slightly worrying. Logan looked at Carlos nervously.  
"Are you going to freak out on me too?" He asked gently, voice cracking from the highness of before. Carlos winced but smiled softly.  
"No, I have already had my breakdown. You're the only one who hasn't gone crazy yet." Logan laughed but there was no warmth behind his laugh.  
"I broke down a long time ago. OH God, I am so messed up. Did you know what I dreamed about that spooked Kendall so bad? I was dreaming..." Logan froze and gulped hard. Carlos rested his head on Logan's shoulder gently, willing his dark haired friend to carry on talking. Logan smiled softly but as soon as his mind turned back to the dream, the smile was wiped clean off his face.  
"I didn't dream it was my dad hurting me this time, it was Kendall. Oh God, I said to myself it was all a dream and that was OK. He was just so...twisted, Carlos. It wasn't like Kendall. It was a shade of him, just a shadow. It looked like him but everything he said...what he did...that definitely not Kendall." It wasn't like James either. Logan knew James must be feeling bad about that now and didn't want him to worry. Logan looked at his bedside and picked up his phone (after his shaky hands dropping the thing at least 3 times before. Carlos was tempted jus to go pick it up but he knew that Logan would just snap at him. He was like that sometimes. He instantly regretted it but he couldn't help but going a little bit mad sometimes.) He dialled James mobile number from memory and held it close to his ear. Voicemail. Logan sighed. James hardly ever turned his phone off unless it was in dire consequences. Logan just listened to James' voice message and hung up. He would know the number anyway. Logan flopped back on the bed. Carlos looked at his best friend who was tossing and turning. Logan eventually gave up on trying to get comfy and lashed out on the closest thing to him, his mobile. The tiny silver phone was launched across the room and bounced off the wall, unharmed. The boys' phone had gone through the wear and tear and could resist nuclear explosions now. Well, most of the boys' stuff did spend most of its life on the floor.  
"Cabin fever?" Carlos asked and Logan looked at Carlos with a mixture of "No shit, Sherlock" and "Oh thank god you understand" in his eyes. Carlos grinned and slid his arms under Logan and pulled him into the empty wheel chair by Logan's bed.  
"I'm so going to be grounded for this."  
"Shut up and get me out of this god damn hospital for a while."  
"Oh Logie. That bad?"  
"I haven't had my morning coffee for at least a week."  
"Ohh. Ouch."  
"Oh yeah."

...

James opened the hospital doors with a little too much force. The metallic doors hit their hinges and swung forward again. James didn't really care. He whipped his hands through his brown mussed up hair. Who could he have shouted...and threatened Logan? His Logan? Oh Lord, Kendall was going to skin James alive for this. Honestly. He had attacked Logan (even though Logan would never admit it. He would say something like James had an "episode" not "James went all out fucking nuts at me") and threatened him for some god damned reason then ran away like some little kid. Maybe James wasn't cut out for this leadership lark. That's why Kendall was the leader of the group. He was good at that type of thing. James...wasn't. James carried on walking down the garden. It was morning now and the sun was only just starting to peek up through the buildings. James shielded his eyes and carried on walking. He reached a bench and went to sit down when he saw that someone else was already sitting on the bench. He spotted the fly away blonde hair. Kendall? What was he doing out here? James gently laid the back of his hand on Kendall's face. James swore. Freezing. Ice cold. James hooked his lanky browned arms beneath Kendall and pulled. Kendall was heavier than he looked. James stumbled and landed on his ass, careful to keep Kendall from smacking into the ground. So far so good, he guessed. James made his way back up onto his feet again and half carried, half dragged Kendall towards the hospital. Kendall was sleeping. That boy could sleep through a world war and wake up, having not heard a thing. James struggled under Kendall's weight for a while longer until he slipped. So naturally, Kendall fell as well. And then James fell on top of Kendall, effectively waking him up.  
"Jesus, James! What the heck?" Kendall groaned, wiping his sleep filled eyes. James couldn't stop laughing.  
"You were...asleep and, and, and I tried to carry you back to the hospital but I fell and your face was hilarious!" James laughed fully for the first time in days. Kendall joined in and the two boys were lying down on the green grass of the hospital gardens, laughing their heads off. They heard a little giggle over closer to the hospital. They looked over. Logan sat in the wheelchair with Carlos grinning like mad.  
"Logan? What the heck are you doing outside? In. Now. Kendall, James and Carlos? What's so funny. Right everyone inside now." Mrs Knight yelled from the hospital doors. Was it any surprise when every single one of the boys yelled back "But Mum!" They were definitely her boys. She knew that and it was great to see them so happy. But she held a letter that would bring all that happiness crashing down to the ground in one fell swoop. This occurrence had happened once before and if it was as...eventful as the last, then there would be some serious fireworks. But that wasn't happening this time. Logan may have to testify but there was no way Mr Mitchell was getting his hands on Logan during this trial.

...

**Dumdumduuuum! Cookies and redeemable awesome status for Logan Henderson Is Mine, a paper-a person-a promise, mandy124, xBleepblapbloopx , chanson, Cooperbear22, 2 kool to spell "kool" right, Musiclovesbest, MiSs-vIcToRy96, squoctobird, femaleodd, fdnjskfdsjgkd, Milkamoo97, G.N Affinity-Chan, princessabbie10, Melinda Grazz, DaniiLuvsBTR, Mojo2011, HappinessComesThroughMusic, .thing Crazyguy and CheekyBrunette! You all rock so much that I love you all. You guys keep me writing and seeing as we're reaching the 60,000 mark I'm guessing you guys are doing OK. ;D**

**CheekyBrunette: IT'S STILL TUESDAY HERE! OK? Anyways, Angst tips? This goes for everyone. Want a type of torture done? I can fit it in. We've still got the court case, recovery, nightmares and a special chapter on Logan's "scars" (mental and physical) to do at some point! So, phew. Not going to be ending for quuuite a while! YOU ALL ROCK! And can't anyone guess where I'm getting these awesome quotes from? Shame on you. You don't know me at all if you don't know my semi favourite documentary science show! XD**

**That was like the beast dying at the end of the movie! **_**"WRRROOOOOEEEAAAGH!"**_

**Elli x**


	29. Chapter 29: Paralysis

...  
Paralysis  
...

Logan stared down at the crisp white letter in his hands. The court day. Was in three days. Suddenly, three days became a hell of a lot shorter for Logan. He didn't want to do it. He knew he would have to do it. Didn't mean he wanted to go into a court room and explain all that...pain and torture and suffering and god awful insults and humiliation to strangers. All thoe strangers. And knowing the press, they would find out that Logan had been abused and because he was in Big Time Rush, all that would be spread all over the world for weeks. Logan wouldn't be able to go outside for the cameras. Everyone would be asking questions and asking if he was OK and Logan didn't want it. He really didn't want all that publicity. Logan's eyes were blank. Everyone knew he was thinking hard. Each of the three boys had their own thoughts on the trial. Kendall was adamant that Logan wasn't going without him acting as a bodyguard. Even then, minimal time in the room mile radius as the bastard who is "legally" his father. James wasn't sure Logan should be going at all. Surely, they could get their information from him separately, right, without risking Logan's health or...life? Carlos was just worried. Logan would be all jumpy if he was scared of the Kendall dream and when James...had his little moment. Logan was jumpy as hell at the worst of times. Carlos couldn't help but notice the way Logan jumped when James touched his shoulder. James didn't miss it either. He looked so guilty. He was so angry with himself for just snapping like that. Kendall was also wary of James. Why was Logan jumping like a jack rabbit when James was near him? Kendall needed to find out. James needed to make Logan forgive him. Carlos needed to chill out. Seriously. Logan needed to make a choice. Suddenly all the worry clattered around Logan's head and he froze up. He couldn't move. It was...paralysis. Logan needed to move but movement just wasn't on his mind. The daunting choices danced in front of his eyes. Logan's own eyes rolled up into the back of his head as he slumped to the ground. He was breathing normally. He looked peaceful. James closed his eyes from the scene of Kendall cradling Logan in his arms, talking in a panicked tone to his little friend. James knew what had happened. Same thing that had happened when Logan collapsed when he was too crowded and everyone's attention was on him. His stress centre just couldn't take it and shut down for a little while. It was forced rest and recuperation basically. Logan had little or no choice in it. His brain just shut him down for a while.  
"We better get him to his room, you know. Let him rest." Carlos said, jigging on the spot. This was messing up with his brain and it didn't feel good. Carlos wanted everything to go back to normal. What Carlos really wanted was a fairy godmother. She would just wave her wand and everything would go back to normal. Logan wouldn't be in hospital. James wouldn't be so guilty. Kendall wouldn't be so sensitive. Carlos wished he could crack a joke and then everyone would laugh and the world wouldn't seem so dark and scary. But right now, nothing was coming to mind. And that scared Carlos more than anything. The fact that a semi evil scheme or prank wasn't going through his head. There was always a prank somewhere in his head but not now. Carlos just couldn't be Carlos.

...

Logan was dreaming but this time it wasn't a totally fictional dream. This was a flashback dream. He was eating dinner in the kitchen, trying to be as silent as possible. His father was cooking something for himself and given Logan a plate of readymade, shop bought pasta. The stringy pasta got all caught in his missing tooth space but Logan didn't dare complain. He was shaking. Hard. The nerves were catching up to him. He bit his lip gently, concentrating on not making a noise. Then, he slipped up. His fingers let the metal fork hit off the plate. His father froze. For the first time, Logan noticed the multiple beer cans littering the unit beside his father. Logan gulped hard and squeezed his eyes shut tight.  
"D-Dad? I'm s-so sorry. I didn't mean to-" He was cut off because there was not air going into his lungs. He couldn't breathe. His father had him clasped around the throat. His blood shot eyes shot fear through Logan's veins.  
"Didn't I tell you...I had a headache, huh Logan?" His father asked slowly, lifting Logan higher into the air, causing pain and panic to flit through Logan quickly. He struggled and kicked. Then, David Mitchell simply dropped the boy who hit the tile flooring with a thump. He turned away and pulled open a drawer. Logan hated that drawer. No nice things lived in there. That was the "weapon" drawer, where all the knifes, guns, needles, tasers, skewers and other instruments of torture lived. His father pulled out a short bullwhip. Logan shook harder and the look of the thing terrified him more than ever. Logan shoved himself into the corner and wept bitterly. This was going to hurt. Hell, this was going to hurt a lot.  
"Get up." His father asked, holding the whip in his left hand. When Logan just sat there quivering, his father snapped the whip in his direction, hitting the back of his hand. The tip was metal plated and sharp. It sliced Logan's hand clean open deeply. The thick satin liquid flowed from his hand. Logan stood up and faced his father, lip shaking.  
"Turn. Around." David hissed at his 8 year old son. Logan bit back a terrified sob and the urge to run, run far, far away and never go back. To run away to the Knights' or the Diamonds' or the Garcias'. But, the knowledge that if he ran, he would be caught and the consequences would be dire held Logan fast in place. Logan turned on the spot and braced himself. The braided leather and harshly sharpened metal sliced through his thin shirt easily and opened up a new scar along his back. Logan cried out and fell to the ground. Pain. Pain was the only thing registering. His father pulled him up to his feet and hit him again, again over the back. The metal wrapped around his torso and sliced along his stomach before being pulled away, breaking the skin all along his side and half his back. Logan's back was completely wet. The red stained his skin everywhere. Logan fell to the floor and sobbed. He didn't notice his father moving away. Then he heard the click. Logan turned around to see the cold barrel of a gun. Pointing at his chest. Logan's brain stalled. No thoughts came. He was transfixed by the metal killing machine in front of his eyes. His father laughed.  
"Hmm, so guns scare you?" He took off the safety catch and Logan whimpered and shook harder, mumbling words of regret and begging for mercy.  
"What about fire?" Another click sounded and Logan tore his eyes away from the gun and followed his father's arm all the way down to the gas cooker where a blue flame was dancing merrily. Logan shuddered at what that meant. He didn't have to think for too long. His arm was wrenched away from his safe zone and was twisted cruelly. Logan yelped and pulled back with all his strength. Nothing worked.  
"Please, Dad! Don't...don't do this! Please! I'm begging, Dad! Please! I'm sorry, I'll be better, I'm sorry!" Logan pleaded, digging in his heels to try and pull away from the quickly approaching stove. His father laughed.  
"I know you're sorry, Logan. But sorry doesn't cut it." He was pulled to the stove then his hand was pressed down hard. Logan screamed in pain as the sharp metal stung, burned and then a fist to the head made the picture twist and Logan knew no more about that dream.

...

Logan awoke screaming. Kendall was instantly by his side, gently shushing him as he psychotically thrashed and turned. Then he caught sight of who was beside him. The dream of Kendall's torture was still all too fresh and another bout of "is this a dream or not?" flashed through his brain and panic overwhelmed him. His heart monitor was rapidly beeping. James was there too, making matters inevitably worse. Carlos rested his hands on Logan's shoulders. He looked straight into those deep chocolate brown eyes and watched as they searched his face.  
"Carlos?" Carlos hadn't hurt Logan in a dream or in real life. Carlos wasn't a threat. Logan slowly began to calm down. The heart monitor slowed to a more natural pace and James and Kendall shared a look. A "Let's leave Carlos to it" look. And Kendall had to talk to James about Logan flinching when he touched him. James figured out this was all coming and was resigned to the fact that Kendall was going to hate him and probably beat him up a bit before he could control his anger. Carlos had forgiven him already and Logan could never ever hold a grudge for longer than an hour. Kendall however...Kendall could hold grudges from when he was 5. He still had some apprehension over letting Carlos have any of his food ever since the day when he was 6 and Carlos ate his cookie. It might be stupid and very immature but it was just Kendall's way of doing things. It was stupid and quite weird but so was Kendall sometimes so it didn't really matter. James just hung his head and left the room, thinking of all the good times he's had and also wondering if...WHEN, when Logan got better, how would Big Time Rush work. Would it work? Would they all have to go back to Minnesota? Kendall could stay because James doubted Gustavo would let him go. Carlos and Logan...who knew what would happen to them. And James...James would go back to being a nobody. A nobody from Minnesota. An ice hockey player. An ice hockey player without a team.

...

**Brada. Finished. Oh, it felt goooood to get that anger out. :D Kudos to Quile and CCullenGirl for guessing that my quotes were from Mythbusters! The awesomeness continues! I heart all you reviewers and alerters. You all rock. Now, I got to find a new film, TV show or book to get quotes...Hmmm... ;)  
Cheeky: I heart you so much. All the torture methods...Ahhh...Bliss.  
Next chapter, David Mitchell is a coming back. I love writing him. HP fans will know what I mean by saying David is my Bellatrix. He just mental but so awesome it's scary! ;)  
EXTRA SPECIAL NOTE: Logan doesn't actually have Narcolepsy. Just a few of the symtoms...doesn't that make this story a whole lot more interesting? Mwhahaha. Also don't expect a ton of updates as I have to STUDY FOR MY EXAMS! Arghhhh! Anyways,  
Love and peace and cookies!**

**"It's not a funny ha-ha, it's a psychotic ha-ha."  
Elli x**


	30. Chapter 30: Consequences

...  
Consequences  
...

For every action, there is an equal opposite force. These forces can be called consequences. Consequences can be good or bad but they always come around. For instance, if you worked well in a certain class (let's just say Physics because James had to do Physics and he was ultimately crap at it) and the good consequence would be you got a high mark in your end of topic test (first and only in Physics for James). A bad consequence would be, oh I don't know, if you attacked and scared the living shit out of one of your best friends and the consequence was your older, stronger other best friend finding out and possibly easily killing you. This was the bad consequence James was dealing with now. He was sitting outside Logan's room watching Kendall nervously peering into the room and sighing in relief as Logan's heart monitor slowed down to a more natural pace. He then turned to James. James wouldn't meet his eyes; he looked at the faux tiled floor and the sickeningly white walls and even the extraordinarily ugly picture of a...abstract thing. Picasso would have laughed at that thing. Kendall watched as James refused to look at him. James' eyes sometimes flickered to Kendall's face as if to gauge the mood then shot away again, the whole thing lasting less than a quarter of a minute. There was a strange look on James' face. Guilt.  
"James." Kendall asked, voice soft as he watched his only slightly younger friend. James looked Kendall straight in the eye and his panic reflex kicked in.  
"Hey Kendall. Umm...What's up? I haven't talked to you lately. Only Carlos and Logan really. Kendall, how do you do all that leadership stuff cos I tried and it's really hard and...and...and...I'm not cut out to be the leader. So you have to never, never, ever leave. Because what's a team without it's captain? And..." James trailed off. Kendall was worried. James was never like this. James was uber confident, super sure of himself and never freaked out this bad. Sure, he freaked when he was out of Cuda hair products but this was really bad. At least ten times worse.  
"James, what are you so worried about?" He tried to be gentle and soft. James needed comfort. Kendall tried to be the strong one but when James looked up, tears littering his eyes, Kendall couldn't be the strong mature one. He could only be the 16 year old teen who tried to help his, at the moment, upset friend.  
"Oh God, I'm so so sorry, Kendall. I-I snapped at Logan when you..you left the hospital. I didn't mean to, it was as if-" James trailed off. Kendall understood.  
"As if your anger was in control?" He finished, kneeling down beside James who was slumped to the floor, back against the cool wall and leg stretched towards the other side of the hallway. It was still early morning so no one was around to trip over James' long legs or a crouching Kendall. James nodded quickly. Kendall knew exactly how he felt. Kendall definitely had a few anger management issues and once or twice, although he immediately apologised, his friend had taken the brunt of it. Sometimes he just got so angry that Kendall wasn't in control. There was only fury. Deep set, strong rooted fury that poured out of him like a tap. He had snapped, shouted, insulted, taunted and even once, hurt his friends. Kendall regretted it with all his heart but he just couldn't help it. It was a part of him. A part he didn't like very much but a part no less. The worst time was when he went after Logan. James and Carlos were hanging at the pool, trying (and failing) to get the Jennifers' attention while Logan was upstairs with a cold and a temperature. Mrs Knight had found this out and had forbidden him to leave the too hot flat. Kendall had been out on a date with Jo when it had all gone terribly wrong for him. He was soaked to the skin, he had to walk past a shop with tons of pictures of Jo and Jett kissing on the front of teenage magazines for their TV show and Jo had to leave suddenly when the director had to pull her away for another scene retake. Kendall did not want to talk to anyone right now. No one at all. He had avoided Tyler's greetings, Camille's dramatic bid for his attention (she probably wanted to know where Logan was. Seriously, that girl has an unhealthy obsession) and Guitar Dude's Hi song. Then he found Logan in the flat, lying curled up on the sofa watching some film on TV. If it was any other day, Kendall would have been at Logan's side, asking if he was OK and offering to go get him food or a drink but today, Kendall just wanted to hide in his room for an hour or two and reappear later as happy as whatever was happy today. Logan slid off the couch and smiled at Kendall. He stopped when he noticed Kendall's deep set scowl. He followed Kendall up to their shared room and had asked Kendall if he was OK until,  
"Yes, Logan, I'm fine! Jesus, just leave me alone!" He had shouted at the little raven haired boy. Logan blinked a few times and screwed up the insane courage to retort,  
"Well, you sure don't look it!" Logan had turned away from Kendall and was about to leave the room when a strangle hold pushed him to the floor. Instantly, Logan's eyes widened and the memories flooded back with a vengeance. He just freaked. Logan struggled like crazy, anything in the attempt to escape. Kendall wasn't himself either and he was damned certain no one was going to run away from him when he was talking to them. A tight grip on his shoulder ceased Logan's struggling as Kendall held him in his hold. Then, Logan didn't see the flat's soft blue carpet. He saw the tiled floor of his childhood home. The hellhole. He shook hard and murmured apologies under his breath fervently, trying to avoid a lot of pain. Kendall realised what he and done and let go of Logan quickly. Just as quickly, he attacked Logan, this time in a hug. He grabbed his best friend and shushed him as he whimpered. Kendall apologised again and again as Logan slowly cried himself to sleep, totally exhausted by the barrage of memories pulling down his carefully constructed mental walls. Kendall had never told anyone about that incident and Logan had simply forced himself to forget it. It hadn't worked but at least it kept it away from his waking thoughts. Kendall could forget and he beat himself up on various occasions for harming his Logan. He would never to anything ever again to hurt him, in any way possible. Or let anyone else hurt him. That of course made Kendall very overbearing and it bugged Logan but he had gotten used to it. James just looked at Kendall who was mentally reliving all these memories.  
"James, you shouldn't worry. Logan never holds grudges and he was probably sorry he bugged you enough to make you snap like that even if it wasn't your fault. Honestly, after one of my blowouts the first thing he says is "I'm sorry". It's weird as hell especially as I probably wasn't angry at him." James wiped away a tear or two. He began to put on his mask. The mask he wore when things got bad and he had to cover up his panicking reflex. Kendall didn't want to watch James slid on the mask but Kendall knew how he felt. Kendall had his own mask when he wanted to hide things. Today he wanted to hide the fact he was scared from Logan. He was very good at hiding things like that. It sometimes scared Kendall how good he was at hiding things from his friends, his brothers. He shouldn't be hiding things from them at all. But Logan hid things all the time too. James and Carlos were very blunt and let everyone know how they were feeling. Logan bottled up all his feelings and would let them out until coaxed out of it. It didn't take much. All it took was a good friend to noticed that something was bothering him then take him to a quiet place and ask him. Ask him what was going on, what was scaring him so bad? Logan would huff and puff then let everything just out. He did it slow and considerately, trying to skip over the more gory details if it was a nightmare and at the end of this mass confession, Logan looked like the world had been lifted off his shoulders. That everything would be OK in the end. Which Kendall always hoped it would. Kendall and James stood up, gave each other a small grin and re entered the room and were met by two beaming smiles.

...

A few days passed until Logan woke up filled with dread. 22/04/2011. A relatively normal day except for the fact it was his father's day in court. Which instantly changed the feeling of normal into a feeling of fear and sudden dislike for those 8 numbers and dashes. Logan did not want to go through with this. He did not want to go through with this a whole lot. The last trial had so lasting effects on Logan. He was almost choked to death in Minnesota. This time though there was going to be a lot more officers in the court room with them and David Mitchell wasn't getting anywhere near Logan ever again. According to Officer Garcia who had come to visit yesterday. Logan pushed himself up in the bed, hissing as the deep cut on his wrist stung in indignation. Pain might be the body's natural reflex and way of saying "knock it off, damn it!" but it still hurt a lot. Which sucked. He looked around "his" room and laughed silently. He used "his" but it was pretty clear that Kendall, James and Carlos used this room as much as he did, if not more. When Logan had to go for a check up and a full scan, the others stayed in exactly the same place as when he left, waiting for him to come back. Sweet actually, that they would stay in the uncomfortable hospital chairs all night. Logan lay back down on the bed then sighed to himself. Logan would have to get up eventually despite his want to hid under the covers for hours on end. He pushed himself out of bed carefully as not to wake James whose head was lying on the mattress beside him. Logan slid out of the bed and went into the bathroom to get changed into something fresh. Heck, he didn't want to be walking around all day in filthy clothes! Especially as it was almost definite that the press would be hounding him as soon as he left the hospital. It was all over the web that Logan was in hospital but not what for so everyone would want to find that little chestnut out. Logan let his head lolled against the wall of the bathroom. He just wanted to stay in here forever and never leave. Never have to go to that trial. Never have to stand in front of all those people at admit that he's been abused since he could remember. A quick knock at the door woke him up from his daydream.  
"Logan? You in there?" Carlos asked quietly. Logan unlocked the door, scratching the back of his head gently.  
"Sorry dude, you need in?" Carlos shook his head. His eyes showed concern.  
"Just wondering how you were doing with the trial thing today." Logan frowned but then his face cleared up slightly. He grinned softly.  
"It will be hard but I think I'll survive."

...

**Woooo! Finished! Hope you enjoyed this. The next few chapters will be about the trial and because of all the angsty stuff, it will last at least two chapters, OK? Good. ;)**

**Love to Logan Henderson Is Mine, a paper-a person-a promise, mandy124, xBleepblapbloopx , chanson, Cooperbear22, 2 kool to spell "kool" right, Musiclovesbest, MiSs-vIcToRy96, squoctobird, femaleodd, fdnjskfdsjgkd, Milkamoo97, G.N Affinity-Chan, princessabbie10, Melinda Grazz, DaniiLuvsBTR, Mojo2011, HappinessComesThroughMusic, .thing Crazyguy and ****CheekyBrunette! You are all too awesome for words. :D **

**We're f*&#!g in trouble! ... we might be getting in our survival suits later on!**

**Elli x**


	31. Chapter 31: Media

...  
Media  
...

Logan stood just outside his room, dressed in a black suit and white shirt. The same black suit and white shirt that he had used for the Good Luck Patrol. Heh, good luck. The more the better today. He could still see the tiny pin pricks where the shamrock badge had been stitched on to his lapel. The only thing marring this presentation was the horrible clunky crutch. He needed that crutch to walk normally. Logan resented the crutch but it was a lot better than being wheeled around in a wheelchair all day. That would get on Logan's nerves and that would by very bad, especially today. The day of the trial. The trial that would be the deciding factor in the decision about if his father does go to jail. Jail for child abuse. Logan sighed. The Camerons and Noelle were going to be there and Noelle, Mrs Knight, Officer Garcia, Kendall and, of course, Logan would be testifying against David Mitchell. Logan let his head rest against the white hospital wall. He had already taken enough medication to last him at least 4 hours but if he needed more Mrs Knight had some if the trial lasted longer. He hoped it didn't. He wanted this over as soon as possible. The longer it dragged out, the more startling memories would worm their way into Logan's mind and that was not a good prospect. A hand on his shoulder stopped his brain in its tracks. He looked up. Logan was met by a large smile. He smiled back gently. Officer Garcia. The officer sighed and spoke gently.  
"Logan, I know you're probably scared right now. Hell, I'd be terrified to be faced by...by such a bastard. He's scary, right?" Logan nodded, eyes cast to the floor. He didn't ever have a normal father/ son relationship with his father. A tiny speck of jealousy at Carlos sparked up but Logan squished it, deeming it as immature. Which it was. Officer Garcia looked down at Logan. He looked so unsure. He also looked like the entire world had just placed a very large bounty on his head; dead or alive. It was disheartening to see. A normally happy person so broken inside. And on the outside. He hadn't missed the unused crutch.  
"Hey, Logan? Do you remember when I collected you from your...house?" Home didn't fit here. Home was a nice place, somewhere where you felt safe, a neutral turf. Logan didn't have a home before he was rescued by Officer Garcia. He had a house, yes but not a home. Logan nodded.  
"Well, do you remember what I said to you?"  
"That people did care for me even if my dad told me they didn't." Logan whispered softly. Barely any noise was heard. Officer Garcia sighed. Logan was terrified. And with good reason. Last time he was in court...he had almost been strangled to death. Logan subconsciously massaged his neck, feeling for any reminders of the iron tight grip[ that had tried to stop his breathing. There was none. It wasn't a dream. Logan had almost died that day. If Officer Garcia hadn't tased his father...Logan shuddered to think what would have happened. Logan looked up at the tall officer.  
"Thank you."  
"For what, Logan?" The officer was genuinely confused.  
"For saving my life. Twice." He answered, smiling at the memory. This man had saved him from death, both times from his father. But another thought occurred to Logan. David Mitchell may be his parent by birth and blood but Officer Carlos Garcia was more of a father than he ever was. Logan smiled. Officer Garcia smiled back, arm wrapped protectively around his adopted son. No one, just no one was getting to hurt Logan ever again, not with Kendall, Carlos, James, Officer Garcia and Mrs Knight all standing in their way. Then a blur of black, white and blonde shot into view. Kendall in a suit. He didn't want to wear the suit but he was forced (literarily) into the uncomfortable suit by his mother. He couldn't tell her to leave him alone like Carlos and James (and possibly Logan if he decided to pick on Kendall for once) but he could knock them upside the head when they insisted on calling him Ken. As in the doll. Even when Kendall pointed out they were wearing exactly the same outfit but oh well. The seriousness of the occasion was going to their heads big time.  
"Hey Logan, we're going now. Just to warn ya, there's a lot of media people..." Kendall's face darkened and everyone could guess what he felt like doing to the media that had decided to pick on Logan even more by exposing him to the entire world. It involved a flamethrower and a toothbrush. Officer Garcia looked at Logan and watched in dismay as his face grew panicked. He knew about the incident when a few particularly brave (i.e stupid or brain dead) interviewers blocked Logan separately from the others while they were going to a concert. BAD IDEA. And after Logan panicked and couldn't breathe properly from the panic? Kendall was merciless. Those interviewers had stayed clear of Big Time Rush and now only asked for interviews instead of forcing them on the band members. Which was all for the best. But these people...these people were news reporters. A whole different breed. They didn't just want to know what was wrong with Logan, they wanted to know why there was a court case. The fact Logan was famous only enhanced the media's hunger for this story. A few had tried to break into Logan's room but had met one of the boys standing outside the room and had chosen to (quickly) retreat. Which was the best choice considering the circumstances. But now? Now those demons were getting access to Logan whether the other guys like it or not.  
It scared the others. What if they blocked off his path? What if they crowed round him and his claustrophobia took hold? What if he got...lost in the crowd? No. No, Kendall would NOT let that happen. If it did, he would resort to his fists. James would hit the ground and scope him out. Carlos would just barrage his way through the crowds, whether they liked it or not. No love lost between Big Time Rush and the media. Soon enough though; Logan, Kendall, Carlos, James, Mrs Knight and Officer Garcia were just at the hospital doors. They could see the reporters practically climbing the walls. They weren't allowed in the hospital but as soon as Logan left the safe haven, it was a free country. The boys had subconsciously made a little ring around Logan; Carlos in front (he could quite easily make his way through crowds), Kendall on his right hand side and James flanking his left. They hadn't meant it but it was cute to Mrs Knight. She smiled. They look after each other. If one falls, the other three pick him up again. She was reminded of the four tiny toddlers who had met each other at the ice rink. Kendall had wanted to go after seeing it on TV, James had been dragged by his big cousin, Carlos was there for Josef as "support" (i.e heckling the hell out of him as siblings do) and Logan being taken as well as by Kendall's mother. Kendall and Logan had been born in the same hospital and as Kendall had some early problems and he had to frequent the hospital up until Mrs Mitchell had Logan, the two mothers had made friends. The fact that they lived in the same neighbourhood only increased this and they soon arranged play dates for their small sons. These were the good times; when Cassandra Mitchell was alive, David Mitchell actually doted (you heard me right) on his tiny raven haired soon and the word abuse was unheard of in the Mitchell home. This was fine until after a year. Noelle was only a few weeks old, Logan only two when Cassandra dipped into her old depressive state. Her mother had just died in the UK and she had taken the news hard. The lively Cassandra had disappeared and soon after that, she killed herself with drink. She had to be admitted to hospital. David and Logan had visited the hospital everyday while Catlin Knight watched over the baby. Then a week later, Cassandra had died. The funeral was brief. David had walked away a changed man. His mood was all over the place. He has built up a lot of anger. Then that anger had been released. On Logan. Catlin turned away. How had such a happy family descended into so much misery? How could this all of started? At least, hopefully, they would find out later on today. The question is, do they want to know exactly what was going on in David Mitchell's mind so long ago? Why he tortured his son and neglected his daughter? But soon, they were going to find out, whether they liked it or not.

...

**Tada! *happy ****dance* This chapter did not want to be written, oh no no no! :D Thank you to everyone who reviewed! I'd list you but it's coming up to midnight and I have to revise like hell tomorrow. *sigh* Anyways!**

**I have two things left on my agenda. 1. Scare the crap out of that guy, and 2. Get some sleep.  
Elli x**


	32. Chapter 32: Protection

...  
Protection  
...

Carlos opened the heavy glass hospital doors and unholy hell was unleashed on the group. A flurry of activity washed around the band with people trying to get to Logan. The boys were backing up restricting the reporters' access but squishing Logan in the process. A white hand shot out and grabbed onto Logan's sleeve and pulled. Logan had no choice but to go with the incessant pulling. His eyes followed the hand to a expressionless woman holding a microphone. Logan was held fast, mic in front of his face. He stared with wide eyes as the iron vicelike grip on his sleeve refused to even waver. He pulled, he honestly did but it was virtually impossible to get away from the woman. She started babbling a question and rammed the mic closer to his face. The camera was rolling and the bright lights shone uncomfortably in his face. Logan was stuck fast and currently mute. Everything had happened so fast. Then a large set of hand tighten around his shoulders and dragged him off again, against his will towards another reporter, this time a man. He, like the woman, was almost completely expressionless. Another microphone was thrusted into his face, hitting his face. Logan shook his head and turned around trying to find his friends in the massive crowd. He couldn't make anything out except a large amount of people. All of them wanting to talk, no, interrogate him. Too many people crowding around him, yelling for attention. Logan was elbowed in the back, then pushed back, then pulled backwards. They were too close. They were hurting him, suffocating him. He needed to breathe. He struggled to get away but the crowd held him fast. Then suddenly, his legs fell from beneath him. He met the floor with a crack as his spine hit the cold flooring. Logan remained awake, eyes wide and unseeing. This had never happened before. He usually left consciousness before this but now he was paralysed, trapped in a body that had ceased to obey him. Fear took over his mind.  
_Oh God, I'm paralysed. I'm not going to be able to move. Lock in syndrome. Being trapped forever in a hospital. Oh God, Oh God, Oh God. I can't move. Too...too many people. All crowding round me. Carlos, James, Kendall...help me! Come on, you guys said...said that it would be OK...said that I would be OK. Guys? James...Carlos...Kendall. James Carlos Kendall. JamesCarlosKendall. Jamcardall..._  
Then some strong arms lifted him easily and he was shocked back into movement. He shook and pressed himself into the person behind him. James hushed him and held him tightly, body guarding him from everyone and giving the media a look that said _"Just try me. Because I have NO qualms about pulling out a shotgun right now."_ Kendall was standing in front of them, fists in a fighting position. His thoughts were more around the lines of _"Ah Shit. I'm going to be stuck in a youth detention centre of this. But actually, fuck it. I can handle it." _He proceeded to let a cruel smile play around with his features as the thought of swinging a mace around over his head right now. If he had a mace, that would be so freaking awesome. Then a small weight in his pocket took him from the beautifully gruesome daydream. He turned to see Logan drop something in his pocket then curl right back into James. James held Logan tightly and whispered something into his ear. Kendall smiled. They all knew each other inside out. That was clear. But the most obvious thing? They were definitely brothers. Of bond if not blood. Kendall grinned and turned back to the silent reporters. Carlos had someone's microphone and was slowly and methodically breaking it by filling the insides with mango juice and a packet of HobNobs. The result? A disgusting microphone, the juicy biscuity mixture spewing out from the thousands of tiny holes all over it. Kendall was so proud. He had no idea why Carlos had mango juice and a full packet of HobNobs on him but he doubt the answer would make much sense so he just left it. He then turned to the media.  
"Right. What the actual fuck do you think you're doing? Seriously? Logan, my brother, has just left the hospital for the first time in 2 weeks and you lot ambush him. He's seriously claustrophobic and you crowd around him like he's some freak show? Well, he's not. He's my brother. If not in Blood, he is in bond. And nothing, nothing you say could change that. However, if you dare, dare to ever fucking harass him like this ever fucking again, I swear to god, I will kill every single one of you godforsaken bastards. You hear me?" The array of reporters nodded slowly. Cameras were dismounted from the shoulder brackets and were switched off. Microphones were lowered and forgotten. The cold professionalism masks fell to the floor and the people, the real feeling people behind them peeked out. Emotions ran through their eyes and smiles and apologies filled the air.  
"Now please excuse us. We have a trial to get to." Kendall grinned and turned towards the door. The crowds parted like the red sea. Kendall and Carlos walked in front of James and Logan. James was still fussing over Logan who was vehemently shaking his head to something James had said. James had his arm slung around the injured teen and was aware of the looks Logan was getting and by association, he was getting. But James didn't care. Logan was more important than any of that stuff; looks, being famous, everything was insignificant when your bestest friend ever was hurt. Logan was a hell of a lot more important than what the rest of the world thought of him. It didn't even some close to comparing. Carlos pushed open the glass doors, letting the sun shine through and sparkle delicately on the flooring. Logan was huddled off into the BMW sitting just outside the hospital. He strapped himself in and leaned back on the leather seats. Kendall looked towards his friend in worry.  
"You alright, Logie?" He asked, strapping his own seatbelt in. Kendall, James and Logan were in the back of the car, Logan being in the middle while Carlos sat beside his dad in the front. Mrs Knight had taken her own car and was off to pick up Katie. Logan looked up at Kendall tiredly.  
"Just tired, Kendall. I just want all this to be over." Logan let his head loll against Kendall's shoulder.  
"I know, buddy. I know."

...

The car jarred to a stop outside the courthouse. The pleasant looking building with pretty looking flowers outside was soon to become Logan personal hell. He didn't know it then but he still got a bad feeling about the place. His father was in there. And he knew it. And he had to willingly walk in there to the place where he tormentor was waiting patiently. Logan sighed and pushed back his hair in worry. His dad always had a backup plan. Everyone else was sure that they "had" him. That there was no way he was getting away with this. Logan didn't believe it. He knew his father well and he knew there would be a catch in this almost perfect set up. The question was what would it be this time? What would go so spectacularly wrong that his father would be given the upper hand yet again? Logan really didn't want to know but he had no choice. He pushed open the large dark wood door in front of him and entered the courthouse. The well lit room was a surprise. With all the deep foreboding Logan was feeling, he had expected it to be dark. And have an omen of death. OK, that was a bit over the top but Logan honestly had a really big fear about this place for some reason. Officer Garcia led the four boys to the court room. Sparsely filled, only a few people were in the room. David Mitchell turned around and the dark cocky over confidence overwhelmed poor Logan. The sudden urge to run away washed over him so quickly, he didn't know what to do with himself. He couldn't run away, everyone else was right behind him. He couldn't faint because that would be just plain embarrassing. So he just didn't meet his eyes and carried into the room. A malevolent hissing filled his ears.  
_"Did you really think I was going to give up? Little Logan, I haven't even gotten started." _Those words...His father had told him that when he had twisted his arm out of its socket and then...well he...he cut...he cut great big red stained ribbons off Logan. Logan shivered and grabbed his left shoulder, feeling the gentle dip where the flesh was missing. That same flesh lay in a dump somewhere now. Somewhere far away, decomposing and rotting away. David Mitchell had always made Logan clean up the blood and flesh lying around after a "punishment". He didn't have much time to dwell on the implications of that stare he had received from his father because the judge entered the room and called upon the first witness.  
"Miss Jennifer Noelle Mitchell."

...

**Remus Rawr. I love **_**those**_** werewolves. AccioBTR Understands what I mean, right doll? ;) So...that sucked. I loved the Kendall speech though. That was so fun to write. I was basically talking out loud and writing as I was talking. Great fun. ;)  
Cheeky: Seriously. You rock darling. That is all. ;)**

**Egyptian Running! OHMYGOD! It's a bomb! *Egyptian runs away*  
God bless my English Class. Honestly. I think my table are a little touched in the head if you get my meaning. I love them though. ;)**

**You should never try anything like this unless you have your own television show. Lile Big Time Rush. And me. ;) **

**Elli x**


	33. Chapter 33: Testimony

...  
Testimony  
...

"Miss Jennifer Noelle Mitchell." The judge's clear voice rang out and a little sigh echoed his words. A tall girl around 15 with dark short curly hair skipped, literarily, towards the stand and sat down, wide green eyes shooting around the room. They came to rest on Logan and Noelle calmed down a bit. A tinsy tiny bit but a bit no less. Noelle nervously bit her thumb nail, her oversized jacket sliding down her arms.  
"Jennifer?" The prosecuting lawyer asked, eyes dull and bored. He knew exactly what was going to happen. He would lose the case, make a profit and leave to go home. No questions asked.  
"Noelle." The girl answered, ceasing gnawing on her thumb nail for around a second to utter the short word then resumed.  
"Why Noelle?" The prosecuting asked.  
"Because...well...because **he **choose the name Jennifer!" She finished, flustered. Her father was looking at her. Intently. This was rather off putting, your abusive father sitting right in front of you while you told your life story to a few strangers. Oh yeah, and the rest of the freaking world, told specifically by the _lovely _media.  
"OK, then Ms Noelle, when did all this start?" The defence lawyer asked. He was nicer, blue eyes focused and paying attention. Noelle felt herself calm down a tiny bit. She shuffled in her seat and looked up. Mrs Knight's stomach clenched. She knew that look. She knew that look too well. Logan often wore this look. The look that said "What are you going to do to me if I'm wrong?" That look that chilled her to the bone on many an occasion. The desire to reach perfection was one of the reasons Logan pushed himself beyond his limits and threw himself into everything he did. And if anything failed? Then Logan would push everyone he knew and cared for away, not risking the chance of being hurt again. Not that anyone would ever hurt him with his three bodyguards around him all day. They were going to be a lot more protective of Logan from now on. He would definitely object but he had NO say in this matter. Of course.  
"Ever since I could remember...He never hit me though! He just...left me alone." There it was, a young girl's emotions lay bare to the elements. She was abandoned. Not much older than a year old when her mother died. After that Logan basically became her guardian. He was the one who fed her, looked after her, comforted her, made sure she had enough clothes or new shoes and he was the one who helped her up when she fell down. She obviously was incredibly uncomfortable so the judge kindly told her to go and sit back down. The problem was that she had to pass her father to get there. Her greeny brown eyes were fixed upon her father until she was at least 3 metres away from him. Then she ran to beside Logan. She was terrified. Something just didn't feel right to her. Something bad was going to happen. Something really really bad. Noelle sat down quickly and fiddled with a lose strand of thread on her jacket.  
"Mrs Catlin Anne Knight, please." Mrs Knight drew herself up to her full height (of around 5"7) and made her way over to the witness stand, not even bothering to look Mr David Mitchell in the face. As she sat, she couldn't help herself. She looked over to Logan's father and was shocked to see...not a troubled or worried man. David Mitchell looked smug and confident. Like he knew he was going to get out of this. His lawyer obviously didn't think so. He wasn't even talking to him, prepping him on what to say. But David looked...in control. And when David was in control, bad thing tended to happen around him. Bad things happened to Logan whether he was in control or not.  
"Mrs Knight, how do you know Mr Mitchell and his son?"  
"I met Cassandra when I was in hospital. Kendall had problems when he was young and I had to go back and forward from the hospital, you see. I met Cassandra just after her own son, Logan, was born. We found out that we lived close to each other and when the two boys became friends, we met up with each other more." The defence nodded quickly and jotted this down.  
"And when were you aware of the abuse David Mitchell was inflicting on Logan?" But before Mrs Knight could answer, David butted in.  
"I would like to say I have never threatened or abused my son. Whoever made this frivolous claim must not be in their right minds." His lightening blue eyes searched Catlin's quickly and were believable even to her and she had seen the abuse with her own eyes.  
"Thank you, Mr Mitchell. Now, Mrs Knight?"  
"Umm...Let me see now...I first noticed Logan was scared of his father when he was 4. He sort of stood extremely still and was just waiting...I don't know what he was waiting for but he was obviously terrified of it. Then the next day, I noticed he was limping a lot so I asked him if he was OK. He said yes but then I asked him to show me his sore leg. He just mumbled and said he had bumped his leg yesterday and that his dad had "fixed it". I told him it was just to make sure. I looked but...that wasn't a bumped leg..." Mrs Knight shivered at the memory. "It was a stab wound." The jury was utterly silent. What could they say? This woman had told the court that her "son" had been stabbed at the age of four. Justice was needed but they didn't have all the information just yet. The judge asked Mrs Knight to take her seat and shouted out the next name.  
"Mr Kendall Andrew Knight." Kendall drew himself up and defiantly passed Mr Mitchell. That bitch was going down. Waaaay down. He sat in the witness chair and crossed his arms.  
"Mr Knight, when did you find out about the abuse?" Kendall's scowl lessened softly. He slowly looked around the room.  
"I didn't find out until that douche bag over there was caught but I had guessed something was going on since I was 5. Logan was always bruised and hurting..." Kendall's anger shot back with a vengeance. "And it's his entire fault! He abused my brother until he was close to death. Logan had three life or death experiences when he was a kid, he's been shot four times now. You can't say that that was all just a "frivolous claim". For fuck's sake, why the hell do you think he walks with a fucking crutch now? It's because of the bullet hole David Mitchell shot through his foot about a week ago!" Kendall finished, standing up, eyes blazing at David who looked calmly back at him. The judge asked Kendall to sit down and then the main witness was called up.  
"Mr Logan Philip Mitchell." Logan froze. Oh hell. He hadn't thought this far along. He was actually planning on taking off the second his name was mentioned but the staring eyes of his friends and those (scary) utter strangers made him get up at walk across the room to the witness stand. That would have been fine if David Mitchell had not moved for the first time since he sat down. He leaned forward and a deviously mean look pulled at his features. Logan stood, eyes wide and staring. He knew that look. That look often came out to play when Logan was late or something stupid, his father was actually sober and he had been just waiting, just waiting patiently, to hurt Logan. This was true in this case as well as David Mitchell stood up, grabbed the gun from the police officer beside him and placed it firmly against Logan's head.  
"Anyone move and I shoot. Not that that would make a difference. Just a quicker death for Logan here."

Trust Logan's dad to make a simple black and white court case into a fucking hostage situation.

...

**Mwhahaha. I know I've been bad and not updated lately but I have EXAMS IN TWO DAYS AND I'M IN THE HIGHEST MATHS AND ENGLISH CLASS AND THEY ARE PILING ON THE PRESSURE AND SHIT, THIS REVELATION JUST NEEDED CAPSLOCK TO BE SEEN AT MY PROSPECTIVE! OK. I'm done now. I feel unloved. Sob sob get over it as Shanny would say. ;) Oh and Cheeky? I feel unloved without my annual long review. Hintyhinthint. Anyways this will probably be my last chapter until the 16****th****. Sowwy. **

**I love Logan Henderson Is Mine, a paper-a person-a promise, mandy124, xBleepblapbloopx , chanson, Cooperbear22, 2 kool to spell "kool" right, Musiclovesbest, MiSs-vIcToRy96, squoctobird, femaleodd, fdnjskfdsjgkd, Milkamoo97, G.N Affinity-Chan, princessabbie10, Melinda Grazz, DaniiLuvsBTR, Mojo2011, HappinessComesThroughMusic, .thing Crazyguy and ****CheekyBrunette! You are all too awesome for words. :D**

**Now the answer to Number D...Hang on...**

**Elli x**

**...**


	34. Chapter 34: Hostage

...  
Hostage  
...

The cold ring of metal pushed uncomfortably hard into Logan's head. He sighed inwardly. This wasn't the first time he had had a loaded gun pressed to his head and if his father had anything to do with it, it certainly wouldn't be the last. Actually, scratch that. Apparently Logan was going to die today so this probably would be the last time he ever had a gun to his head. Which was oddly relieving to Logan. Maybe, just maybe Logan would be able to go...just let all that pain wash over him and fall asleep forever more. That sounded exceptionally nice right now. He didn't want to be in court; crutch, monkey suit, sore head and a psycho father pointing a gun at him. Seriously, what the spitfire's hellfire did he do to piss God of so much that he deserved all of this heartbreak and pain? Woah, those sounded like some really bad mushy love song lyrics. Yeah, "What did I do to deserve all of this heartbreak and pain?" Logan would have laughed if he wasn't, you know, in a life or death situation. Live or death situations. The amount of these Logan had been in over the years had to be some sort of record. I mean, abused father threatening to kill him most of the time, the fact he had THE worst balance and had tripped up and smashed into a car...a driving car, he had fallen over the railing in the flat and landed on his back, jerking it out of place and not to mention the thousands of other accidents he had had in his short 16 year life. He sighed and pulled himself back into the real world as his head was smacked by the butt of the gun. Dude, headache much? Yiow.  
"Are you listening to me?" His father screamed in his face. The drugs running through Logan's system must have had an effect on his brain because he had some weird stupid courage to reply;  
"Not really, no." Bad thing to say. Possibly worst thing to say. A swift punch to his upper chest made the stupid courage spew from him fairly quickly. A burst of unbridled fear took its place. _  
Oh god, I'm going to die in front of all these poor people. In front of Kendall and James and Carlos and Mrs Knight and my sister and Officer Garcia and...and...I don't wanna die! I'm going to be a doctor! I'm going to go to University and get a good degree and get a good job to pay for Kendall's bail more than once and me and the guys are going to be best friends forever! I'm not supposed to be murdered by this raving lunatic who claims to be my father! _Logan's thoughts ran ramped around his head until he was lifted up and handcuffed. He looked up. The cop that seemed eerily familiar was cuffing him as his father held him still. Must have been a crooked friend of his father's. I mean, he was currently cuffing Logan up, restraining him from fighting back against his father. _"To serve and protect, my ass"_ Logan thought as the metal hand cuffs were tightened too much and bit cruelly into Logan's bandaged wrists. The cop handed Mr Mitchell a wickedly pointed knife as Kendall yelled out and tried to push forward but Logan's head was jerked up and the silver knife was pressed none to gently against his throat, piercing the skin slightly causing a sliver of crimson red blood to drip slowly down Logan's neck. He could feel the uncomfortable warmth sliding down his throat and hitting his collar bone.  
"Ah ah ah. Don't what to do that, Knight. Or Logan here," The knife dug cruelly deeper into his throat, making some more blood, heavier flow this time, to run down his throat. Any deeper and...Logan shivered and yelped as the knife caught his already tender skin.  
"Or Logan here gets a little more...red looking. Your little friend doesn't like red too much, does he, Knight?" Kendall looked back at James briefly and saw his determined yet pale, oh so pale, looking face. James caught Kendall's worried gaze and smiled helplessly. Kendall tried to smile back but his facial muscles just wouldn't co-operate. He turned to the gruesome scene in front of him. Logan's head had been released and was now dangling limply, red falling from his chin. Kendall hated feeling helpless. He wished that he could unleash some almighty hell upon David fucking bitch Mitchell for even thinking about harming His Logan. No one, NO ONE, hurts Kendall's Logan or there will be consequences. Big ones. Like...you know...death for one. But there was nothing he could do to help Logan right now. Even if he tried, Logan would be hurt even more or even killed by his father. And easily too. That wasn't just a normal knife, that knife had ridges and a hook. A nasty hook that was currently caught in Logan's skin and his father was pulling the hook along his neck. Then he pulled. The knife quickly (and painfully) pulled a chunk of skin away from Logan's neck leaving a bare red bloody flesh behind. Logan didn't whimper this time, this was a fully fledged scream. Kendall's heart was almost torn into billions of teeny tiny pieces with the sound of that scream. He was supposed to protect Logan. He had to. It was what he had to do but he couldn't. Not right now. There was no way for him to help Logan in anyway. He just had to sit and listen to Logan's pitiful sobs as he tried to pull at the handcuffs preventing him from stemming the blood flow from his openly wounded neck. His father just laughed and kicked Logan down. His neck hit the floor. Logan yelled out, a bare, raw scream and tried to get up. David Mitchell let his steel toed boot caps rested on Logan's back, holding him down, revelling in the pained screams. Logan gave up on screaming. He just whimpered, eyes glazed in pain. His neck wound was going to get infected if he carried on lying there. Logan used all his leg strength to push himself off the ground but he was pushed down more forcibly and his father gripped around his neck, pushing his calloused fingers deeply into the wound. Nothing was registering to Logan anymore. Nothing but that red hot searing burning pain. Logan cried out as his father's finger dug deeper into his neck. Surely, death would come and take all this away? His neck wasn't that thick, his father had always called him scrawny, and the veins and stuff in there couldn't be saved by now, right? Death seemed so blissful right now. A fluffy white cloud compared to the pain and suffering he was receiving right now. Logan could imagine just...nothing. No pain, no memories, no nightmares, just...blissful everlasting sleep. He was in no condition to fight the gray spots clouding his view. Logan was close to just giving up when a quick jerk whipped him off the court floor and to his feet. His wounded leg bit back in protest but Logan ignored it. There was some bigger shit going down right now. David Mitchell picked Logan up and pulled him backwards.  
"Just off to have a wee..hmm, let's say _chat_ with my little baby boy here." He smiled psychotically as Kendall, James and Carlos growled in undertones. This was all wrong. Logan was just supposed to answer the questions then leave, no cuts or bruises. But now Logan was being dragged away into a private room, blood dripping down his front, staining his white shirt a sickeningly deep red. The sick thing was that David Mitchell wasn't kidding around this time. Definitely not. He wasn't going to jail as the man who had **failed** to kill his son. Oh no...

...

**Midggggeeeeesssss! Biting my bloody face off. OK. THIS is the last chapter til the 16****th**** as I couldn't just leave you guys with a hostage situation starting right? Nope, I needed to go all gory on you guys. Mwhahaha. I love all you little reviewers. You all rooooooccccckkkkk. Special thanks to those who wished me good luck cos I'm going to need it. Uh huh. PS. Last time I checked this story was the 6****th**** longest Logan story. Feelin' prrrrrooooud. ;D**

**This chapter is dedicated to CheekyBrunette cos she had a bad day yesterday and I'm hoping this will cheer her up a bit. ;D xxx**

_**Gone studyin'**_

**Elli x**


	35. Chapter 35: Present

...  
Present  
...

Logan was dumped unceremoniously on the floor again, this time face up. For that he was thankful because that meant that his aching bloody neck wasn't pressed to the floor again. He sighed and tried in vain to sit up, to not seem like a worthless piece of flesh on the floor. His father didn't seem to like this idea and pushed Logan back onto the floor.  
"Why?" Logan managed to choke out painfully as his lungs were being crushed by his father's heavy weight. He was a small guy and his father...well, his father was pretty big compared to him. Height, weight, shoe size, everything. Logan was small and slim while his father was tall and used to be muscular. Except the muscle was gone now and fat had rolled into its place. Didn't mean that Mr Mitchell was any lighter. He still crushed Logan painfully. Logan needed some air. He struggled quickly in desperation to get at least some breath. The heavy foot was lifted and Logan rolled onto his knees. He gulped down large pockets of air and pressed his neck into his shoulder. It hurt like hell but he helped stanch the blood flow that was dripping slowly down his front. His father sat down facing him, knife glittering in his hands. His eyes were dark and determined. He was silent until he smirked.  
"Hurt Logan? That's nice. I brought you in here to sort out our stories. Can't have yours' ...let's us _clashing_ with mine, can we? Because I don't intend on going down, Little Logan. And if I do? I break right out and I wouldn't spare any qualms on kidnapping you and hopping on a plane. I'd happily hop the border just to make sure you die this time. The only reason you're not dead _right now? _Let's just say, I enjoy watching you suffer." David smirked and looked Logan right in the eye. To Logan, this was terrifying. He was slowly replaying every single item of abuse he had ever been subjected to. Logan quivered unconsciously. Who could have thought this would have happened?  
"A-and if m-my story d-doesn't match u-up to the s...slightest detail?" Logan spluttered, ignoring the thick puddle of blood forming at his knees. The knife quickly reappeared just as it had left. This time it was resting on Logan's cheek. It was slowly pulled down, the ridges catching and ripping open his face. Logan pulled away and the ridges and hooks caught his skin and ripped away a small chunk. Logan yelled out. His father stood up and walked over to him, kicking him in the ribs as he did. Logan rolled with the blow and landed on his back with little grace. He looked at the ceiling and saw the ceiling was specked with gray. Oh wait, that was just his eyes. Logan shook his head quickly and watched the grey spots slowly disappear. Then his father invaded his vision. Logan nearly jumped clean out his skin. He had not been expecting that.  
"If our stories don't match up completely, I have nothing to stop me from going outside and killing every single person out there. Do you really want to be responsible for...oh, around 30 people? Including your little friends and their families? Hmm, Logan? Could you handle that on your conscience?" Logan definitely couldn't. Logan's face tripped and his father caught the change.  
"Didn't think so. So there's the story. I haven't ever touched you, you haven't been ever attacked and you made the whole thing up. Got it?" Logan didn't move. A crushing blow to the face. Logan spit out blood. There could be much more blood in his system, right? His mouth, his neck, his face, he could feel the warmth dripping around his wrists from the too tight hand cuffs as well. Logan was actually very close to death or at least, passing out. But then he was wrenched to his feet. A yell was bitten back as his father deliberately stood heavily on his bandaged foot. The tenderness was now shooting back. Logan froze in fear. His morphine was running out. This...this was nothing compared to what was going to be coming next. A hissing voice leaned in.  
"Just realized, huh, Logan? Just realized I had all this planned from the start? From before I kidnapped you? I had this planned down to a tee. I knew when your morphine would run out. Now the real fun can begin. And, oh what fun we'll have." His father, this psycho, was clearly deranged. His eyes shone in that weird way that scared Logan. It scared Logan a lot. Then he pulled out the hunting knife. Whoa. This was a biiiiig knife. And it had hooks and stuff on the edges. Logan screwed his eyes shut and hoped, prayed, that this was some delusion from his morphine. That this couldn't possibly be real. This had to be fake. That praying amounted to nothing because it certainly not fake. The steel gleaming blade slicing through his arm was definitely very real. Logan just gave up. He screamed and screamed and screamed. Not from the knife wound but the pain of the morphine wearing off and the older wounds reopening and biting his nerves. A pointy object found itself inserted into his stomach. Logan didn't just scream, this was an agonized, painful fully fledged fearful scream. He was going to die.  
"Ready to tell everyone the right story, Logie?" Logan didn't answer, he just sobbed huge pained sobs. It hurt to cry but he couldn't stop. His lungs were screaming at him to stop crying but the tears kept running down his face. David pulled his pained son to his feet and smiled at the agonized scream he was rewarded with. This was going to be fun. He kicked open the door and dragged Logan out of the room. He was covered in blood but not his own. Everyone's eyes found the sobbing, bloody wreak that was Logan Mitchell. Gasps were drawn, outrage was everywhere and David Mitchell couldn't be more proud of himself. All the reactions he was getting. All the credit he was getting. He turned to his absolutely terrified son and whipped the gun to his head, making sure to press back so his neck was stretched out.  
"Say it." He said, hissing spitefully. Logan merely moaned in pain as the scab under his neck was split open and blood started to pour out sluggishly. David rolled his eyes and pushed back harder. Logan screamed, a blood curling, pained scream. It hurt to listen to it. God, David loved it.  
"My dad h...has never touched me, I haven...haven't ever been attacked and I made it all up, god it hurts. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts." Logan collapsed sobbing his eyes out, pain taking over. He couldn't feel anything else. Nothing else mattered. Then Logan's senses just couldn't take anymore and crashed. Logan's pain filled eyes cleared suddenly and Logan fell. He fell straight to the floor and a resounding smack echoed around the room. David looked at Logan with contempt and kicked him in the ribs, causing one to snap loudly, just to make sure he wasn't faking it. He shrugged and looked back up at the horrified crowds.  
"You heard him, case closed, right?" David laughed and laughed, not caring when the police officers were on him like wildfire.  
"Do you really think he's going to forget this? As long as I live, I will keep breaking out and getting him. You hear that, Little Logan? I'll get you one of these days!" He was led away, laughing the entire time. Kendall phoned 999. That number was becoming too common a number to dial for their own good.

...  
WOOO! Becausey I just did Chemistry (which I love ;D ) I thought "Hmm...these dudes and dudettes are probably hating me for not updating cos of my tests. I should give them a very angsty chapter to make them feel better!" And here it is! SUPER ANGST! *flies past in superhero costume* Okey Dokey. Here is a shoutout. Can someone *coughcoughCheeky* give me some veeeery angst stuff to write into Logan's next nightmares in the next chapter (Past), Kays? Just I'm kinda dry on material cos of the tests eating my brain. It sucks I know but hey.

"What would Ms Walker do if we, her favourite top class, just walked out of the exam room saying "Fuck it"?" "Death. Death would follow."

Elli x


	36. Chapter 36: Past

...  
Past  
...

A 7 year old trembling Logan Mitchell was currently in his kitchen with his abusive father holding a cattle prod above him. The stick of electricity sizzled above his face. Logan shook harder. The prod was even closer to his arm. Logan could hear the zapping and see the sparks fly. Logan squeaked as the prod was just inches from his flesh. He screwed his eyes up tightly, getting ready for the onslaught of pain. Instead of a deep full body pain though, he heard a small snigger. He looked up at his father's laughing face. Logan hoped a tiny bit. Maybe this wasn't going to go so-  
"ARGH!" Volts upon volts of electricity shooting through his veins. Logan fell to the floor heavily on his back. God that hurt. God! Logan lay on the lino floor, body still quivering as it tried to process the electronic waves that had just been forced through it. What did he do to deserve all this? All this abuse and pain and terror? 5 year old Jenny stood by the door silent until David noticed her.  
"What, you want this too?" Jennifer, being quite bright, realized she didn't want that thing anywhere near her so she ran away. Logan was glad, strangely enough. If he kept Jenny from being hurt, then he was a good person, right? He might not be the perfect son his dad wanted but Logan tried. He really did. Perfectionism was rife in the Mitchell house, with Logan always, always trying his hardest to do the best he could in the obscure hope that his father would maybe leave them alone for once. That he wouldn't scream abuse or hit out at Logan. But that hope was dying. Dying of a disease called "Reality". Reality was kicking in and saying there was no way in hell that David Mitchell was going to let up on Logan. The extreme dislike was bare for the watching world to see. How much hate was swirling around David Mitchell's brain as he attacked his small son for a second time with the highly painful object. Another, stronger, shock sizzled Logan's flesh and blood. He tried to pull away but was held tight by his father. There was no getting out of this. Logan cried out loudly but then a large sweaty palm was clasped over his mouth, muffling him.  
"Shut up, you little prick. Keep your mouth shut or I'll think of something even worse for you, got it?" David hissed at Logan. Logan's eyes widened and then shut tightly, trying to block out these thoughts of what could possibly be worse. Burning, cutting, drowning, freezing, the list just went on and on. A gun lay on the table. Logan tried to avoid looking at it. He couldn't. The barrel was basically death. He was staring at death sitting on the table top. Logan's hand shot out to grab the gun but his father caught his arm and popped it back. Logan yelled out, arm hanging down uselessly by his side. David Mitchell looked him straight in the eye with the gun in one hand, electric cattle prod in the other. Logan's eyes found the gun barrel and whimpered. David laughed loudly, cruelly and jabbed his stomach with the cattle prod. Logan reared upwards and fell to the floor, writhing in pain. Logan stilled after a minute or two and then the steel cold barrel was pointed at his chest. Logan whimpered and cried out, tears rolling down his face. David then moved and shot Logan's foot. Blood riveted around his feet. Logan screamed.

...

Kendall was beside himself. Logan was screaming in his sleep and he couldn't do a thing to help his best friend. The way Logan was yelling, it had to be one hell of a nightmare. Nightmares were too common for poor Logan. Almost anything and everything triggered them too. But the worst were definitely weapons of any kind. They all set of a different nightmare or hallucination. Logan was once curled up in a ball, pleading with his father to stop hitting him with a whip. Kendall was close to throwing up. James actually did throw up. Carlos was asleep at that point. He was so tired, he had actually snapped at someone. The other three just stood watching gobsmacked. Of course as soon as Carlos had gotten some sleep, he had apologised. Repeatedly. Kendall smiled at the memory. He didn't have too much to smile about right now. Logan was dying. He was in hospital now but the nightmare had been constant. He hadn't been thrashing the entire time because the paramedics sedated him but Kendall still could see the faces Logan were making. Faces of terror, faces of pain, faces of absolute fear. Kendall's stomach was doing back flips at every single glance he took of Logan's face. And Kendall couldn't do a goddamn thing to help Logan in the slightest. It hurt. It hurt inside that Kendall couldn't do anything to help his little brother. He couldn't help the person he had promised to look after all that time ago. Logan was scared and hurt, inside his mind and outside, and Kendall couldn't comfort him. He couldn't help him or save him or...anything! Kendall was helpless. Totally helpless. Logan's eyes shot open as he arched his back and cried out. He reared up and threw up. Kendall winced. Logan was retching painfully, tears running down his face. Kendall wasn't in the room; he was outside the room, watching through the glass walls of the room. Kendall stood up, ignoring the faces and voices of James, Carlos and his mother. He pushed open the door and sat right beside Logan. He slid his arms under his best friend and shushed him as he whimpered. Logan's face was extremely white and sweaty. Logan rested his head against Kendall's chest. Logan hurt. The meds weren't helping. Logan was burning, from the inside out. His organs were sizzling in his head but his clammy skin felt cold against Kendall's chest. Kendall was worried. Very worried. The doctors and nurses around him just faded away as Kendall held Logan up. Logan whimpered into Kendall's chest.  
"Yeah mate, I know. I know it hurts. I know that you had a nightmare. I know your scared. Hell, I'm scared. We're all scared, scared for you. Come on, get it outta you. It's fine, you're going to be fine, I promise. I promise he would get within a 10 mile radius of you. Ok? Logie? Do you mind telling me which one it was? Which nightmare?" Logan pulled his face from Kendall's chest and looked up with huge red rimmed eyes.  
"C-C...Cattle prod and a gun..." Kendall's eyes grew wide and he wrapped his arms around Logan securely, holding him tight in his brotherly way. No one, just no one was getting near Logan without Kendall's permission from now on. NO ONE. Kendall winced at Logan's renewed painful sobs. Poor, poor Logan. He had to help him but right now all he could do to help was hold him tight and promise. Promise never to leave or abandon him. Which he never would but sometimes, Logan needed to hear things to make sure they were real. He seemed to have a complex that made him think that everyone was plotting against him, even his friends on occasion. It hurt Kendall as it hurt James and Carlos but Kendall felt it harder. He was the leader, Logan's protector and Logan sometimes thought of him as a threat. It cut deep. But Logan couldn't help it. From childhood, his main "carer" had been a sadistic abuser so naturally he thought anyone who took "care" or cared about him could snap at any moment and maul him viciously. Like his dear daddy did. Kendall shivered at the thought. Kendall would never hurt Logan intentionally. Hell, he probably wouldn't think anything of killing someone if they hurt Logan too bad. He was literally inches from murdering Logan's father by pulling his heart through his eye socket but the glinting glistening red knife at Logan throat. Kendall inwardly shivered again. He could feel the deep incision on Logan's throat clearly. As well as a deep one on his wrist. Kendall gently caught it and turned it over. He blanched. An angry deep slice went right over his veins and was badly covered by a sopping red bandage. He remembered that. He had accidently said the wrong thing.  
_ "Cut it off." Kendall's eyes widened as Mr Mitchell burst into a massive smile.  
"If you insist..." Mr Mitchell placed the knife on Logan's wrist and pressed hard.  
"No! Not that! The morphine. Cut...cut that."_

One stupid goddamn slip of the tongue. One goddamn slip of the tongue and Logan had a deep slit going across his wrist for it. Kendall felt like apologizing but Logan would bat him away even in this state. He didn't want pity. He never did. Logan just wanted someone to hold him and tell him it was all going to be OK. And right now, Kendall was happy enough to do just that, keep him safe while his other two friends had to start pulling themselves together. For Logan's sake.

...

**AWWWWWW. Logie is soooo cuuuuttteee! :3 So Cheeky, this is the first part of your two part birthday present but I couldn't be bothered waiting for it so...TADA! Early birthday present! ;D**

**I lovelovelove I love Logan Henderson Is Mine, a paper-a person-a promise, mandy124, xBleepblapbloopx , chanson, Cooperbear22, 2 kool to spell "kool" right, Musiclovesbest, MiSs-vIcToRy96, squoctobird, femaleodd, fdnjskfdsjgkd, Milkamoo97, G.N Affinity-Chan, princessabbie10, Melinda Grazz, DaniiLuvsBTR, Mojo2011, HappinessComesThroughMusic, .thing Crazyguy and the awesome birthday girl who is...****CheekyBrunette!**

**Answer me this AutoSpell! When does Music become Mohammed? This actually happened today.**

**Elli x**


	37. Chapter 37: Terminology

...  
Terminology  
...

The doctors soon swarmed right back in, not the happy doctors from before but expressionless, non-descript people; never using names, never making any attempt at getting to know Logan and always the exact same clothes. They were like the doctor clones from plant Pluto for god's sake. Kendall soon found himself pulled away from Logan and in the corridor. Logan was bundled up into a wheelchair and wheeled off to another part of the hospital. Kendall knew following would be impossible but that didn't deter him any. Kendall sprinted down the corridor after his little brother who had been sedated for the following tests. Kendall hated it when they did that. Made Logan go all limp and lifeless and...dead looking. It hit home that Logan could have died very easily. If Officer Garcia had been a little later on busting his dad, if they hadn't found Logan as quickly as they had the first time he was kidnapped and the second, for that matter and the courtroom. That scared Kendall literally shitless when Logan was forced in to the silent room by his father, bleeding from his throat. Kendall honestly thought he couldn't be saved at that point. That Logan was too far gone, dying. Kendall got a disgusting image of Logan choking on his own blood and just collapsing. Just falling straight to the floor and never getting back up. Then the memory of David Mitchell licking Logan's blood of the knife flooded back. Kendall winced. David was almost obsessed with cutting Logan up to ribbons. His son's blood was like his favourite treat. David had smiled contentedly with red dripping down his chin afterwards looking down at the prone Logan, face mostly blood and cuts from when it was just Logan and Kendall in the room. Logan's face was all healed up now but still... the thought of Logan's mostly red face sent shivers up Kendall's spine. Kendall shook his head and realised he had been standing at the door for a while down, completely unaware of everyone else. Kendall looked up. It was an Operating Room. Kendall's eyes widen. What was it this time? What was the disgusting thing David fucking Mitchell had done to Logan that needed surgery? Kendall's mind shot pictures of an imbedded knife or something gruesome shoved down this throat...Kendall remembered the time Logan had to go to hospital because someone had realised that Logan had a metal rod stuck in his arm. He hadn't said anything because if he did the rod would be pushed deeper into his arm by his father until, his father had said, the rod would cause him pain everyday but no one would believe him because the rod wouldn't be visible. How sick is that? Who tells their son that every single day he will be in pain if he tells anyone about the abuse he gets? No one who can be logically called a father. David Mitchell shouldn't be in his son's life. David bloody goddamn Mitchell doesn't deserve to share the same surname as his sweet, quiet, funny son. Polar opposites can bite my ass, Logan and David are more like water and a fricking atomic super jet. Differences? There was no end to them. Nice- Mean. Thin- Fat. Normal- Complete and utter psychopath. No end. Kendall guessed that Logan wouldn't be out for a while and went for a walk to find his other two friends again. He sort of felt bad for abandoning them during the heat of the moment but it was in his mind to just look after them constantly. Kendall was just that sort of guy. He constantly looks after his brothers. No harm comes their way. EVER. Unless they want to risk not having four working limbs for the rest of their lives. Because if anyone hurt Logan, loss of limbs was unavoidable. Kendall took a deep breath. That was a looootttt of anger bouncing around his noggin and he had to calm down or it would all explode outwards and right now, that would be the very worst thing to happen. Kendall hated snapping at his friends. He did it all the time, accidentally of course. But Logan...Logan is the only one he had actually hurt because of his god forsaken problems. He had pushed Logan down and grabbed him around the throat. Kendall shuddered inwardly. How many times had David Mitchell done the exact same thing but meaning to murder Logan? This was all going way to fast and Kendall needed time to sort his head out. Time he currently didn't have. Logan was in surgery, James was probably pacing like a wild animal and Carlos was most definitely jumpy as a jack rabbit. His mum and Katie though...Katie, Poor Katie, would be a blubbering wreck by now. She didn't like it when anyone got hurt. Nor did anyone else but Katie always took it hardest and always cried her own tears on their behalf. Mamma Knight would be trying, trying so hard to keep everyone functioning. Making sure they all eat, all drink, all keep talking and learn information that would help. Kendall smiled as he imagined his mum trying to juggle all the people she was trying to look after and never, ever dropping a single person. His mum would never do that. She would never leave someone in trouble. It was just...wrong for Mrs Knight to do anything of the sort! Unheard of. Kendall hoped he had her caring ability and also her strength. God knew he was going to need it.

...

Logan looked up at the glaring lights of the recovery room. Whoever decided that patients recovering from anaesthetic wanted to see a fricking Mickey Mouse sticker on the ceiling and super bright lights needs to be shot. Logan shook his head gently and pushed himself up. What he saw then was a serious health hazard. Not his loving caring friends but his father. Just sitting there on the bed, smiling that creepy smile of his. His eyes never left Logan's face as Logan struggled for breath to yell for help. His psycho dad was sitting on his bed for God's sake! But no matter how hard Logan tried, air just wouldn't come to him. It was if he has trying to breathe through a tiny pipe. He was getting enough air to stay alive but his lungs were never really full. Logan's heart was beating hard and he swore he could feel the pulse in the head, thumping and kicking at his brain. Logan couldn't find the strength to scream for help. Instead he settled for mentally screaming for help. Because you know, doctor telepaths are so common in LA. Or America. Or, you know, the entire world. But Logan had settled for the fact that someone, someone had to come in to check on him at one point. Hopefully. Well, NOBODY was coming. Jesus, what kind of hospital lets psychopaths just waltz into patient's rooms? The weirdest thing was the fact that David Mitchell wasn't moving. Just sitting there, smiling the whole time, watching Logan panic for his life. Just then, a doctor came in and totally ignored David. He pulled out a huge needle and stuck it in Logan's neck. Paralytic. Logan couldn't move. Then the doctor left and David got to his feet. He looked down at Logan, face darkened and twisted. Then out came the kebab skewer and a knife. The kebab skewer found its way between two ribs. Logan tried, tried, tried to lift his arm and pull it out. He tried to scream for help. He tried to scream for mercy. He couldn't do anything. He couldn't even close his eyes to block out the terror. Then the cutting started. Logan couldn't scream out, cry or even plead. He was trapped, trapped inside a body that had ceased to obey him. That's when David picked up a pillow and began to smother his son to death.  
"LOGAN!" Oh thank god. The cavalry has arrived. Late, mind you. But the smothering feeling didn't ease any. Then Logan was forcibly pulled right back into consciousness. Logan shot up and had to force back his scream. Oh god, oh god, oh god...it was a dream. Oh thank god, It wasn't real. Logan felt like laughing in relief. His father wasn't sitting at the end of his bed, ready to take him away and...and violently and painfully kill him. Carlos sat in front of Logan, eyes wide and frightened.  
"Nightmare?" He squeaked. This was not Carlos-esque behaviour. Logan nodded.  
"Hell yeah. So what's up?" Carlos' eyes slid down until he reached Logan's now heavily bandaged abdomen. Whoa. That was new.  
"What...happened to me?" Logan asked, fingers gingerly tracing the bandage tape.  
"They found a huge needle imbedded in your ribs and it was poking your organs, and they needed to operate and they did and you were bleeding and you didn't stop bleeding and...and Logie, I was scared. Really really scared." Carlos collapsed into sobs. Logan froze. He shook himself out of the frozen stance and gently wrapped his short arms around the crying Latino.  
"It's OK, Carlos. I'm OK now, right? Still alive, kicking and making sure you lot don't kill yourselves."  
"Well if that's your plan, you could talk James down from the roof now." Kendall poked his head in the door, face showing clear, unbridled panic and fear. Carlos shot up and careered down the corridor with Kendall while Logan sighed and picked up the mobile beside his bed. He dialled in a number he knew from heart. The other side picked up with the customary "hello".  
"Honest to God, James. One day, your weird love of high places is going to kill Kendall." James laughed loudly, clearly not depressed and enjoying the weird high he got from high places. High places he isn't supposed to be right now.  
"I'm guessing he got my text? I probably shouldn't have just written "I'm on the roof"."  
"Ya think? Seeya when the others are convinced you AREN'T suicidal. Don't expect me to help nether."  
"AWWW. But Loges, that will take at least two hours!"  
"Better get started then, huh? Byeeeee!" Logan hung up on the fuming James as he heard almighty commotion in the background. Logan let his head flop backwards onto the pillow. Just then, what else but a bullet shot past where Logan's head had just been seconds before.  
"Holy fuckadoodle." Logan murmured as he turned to see a deranged character facing him, gun tightly wrapped in his fist. Not David Mitchell but one of his best friends. Logan had encountered this dude before. He was responsible for the wavering slice down the back of Logan's calf which sometimes stung to the muscle. This guy was a real psycho. A medical psychopath. He had no remorse or pity for Logan at all.  
"Your da said that if he couldn't finish the job, I could and do what I liked with the body." The stinking, filthy man whispered, jerking his head to the side every now and then. Logan shuddered inwardly at what this man planned to do with his dead body and then decided he didn't what to know. The door was locked and they were on the 4th floor. Logan was trapped, not by his own body his time but by a lunatic.  
_"Honestly, WHY DOES GOD KEEP PICKING ON ME?"_

...

**Happy birthday, Cheeky! *party hooter toot* Hope ya liked it. No idea where the roof scene and psycho came from through but HAPPY DAYS! Unfortunately, I am going on a school trip until Saturday. Glasgow, Edinburgh and Cruthachan. Yay! So no chappies until then. Sorry, my little bubbas. ;D**

**I loveity love love Logan Henderson Is Mine, a paper-a person-a promise, mandy124, xBleepblapbloopx , chanson, Cooperbear22, 2 kool to spell "kool" right, Musiclovesbest, MiSs-vIcToRy96, squoctobird, femaleodd, fdnjskfdsjgkd, Milkamoo97, G.N Affinity-Chan, princessabbie10, Melinda Grazz, DaniiLuvsBTR, Mojo2011, HappinessComesThroughMusic, .thing Crazyguy and the awesome birthday girl who is...****CheekyBrunette!**

**Sanity is fleeting...at terrifying rates.**

**Elli x**


	38. Chapter 38: Adrenaline

...  
Adrenaline  
...

Logan's body started to have a fight or flight moment but there was no way he could run away or fight back. He was in a hospital bed, wires dangling everywhere and medicines making his head fuzzy. He couldn't stand up without dragging deep set wires out of his arms. The mad man had all the power in the room. And that was terrifying because this guy was not in his right mind. He was drunk as a skunk and medically ill. Logan had no way of protecting himself. This became crystal clear as the man hobbled over and look at Logan so closely, they were millimetres from their noses touching. The stench was over powering and Logan couldn't fight the urge to turn away. When he saw this, the man, named Andrew Pickens, grabbed Logan's face and pulled it closer to his. Andrew's eyes roved over Logan's features, pictures and images of slicing them into oblivion obviously running through his head. Logan shuddered from the rough hand holding his face in place. Logan really wished this was a nightmare too. But this couldn't be. The reality...the pain always bit harder in the real world. In dreams...it was muted, more gentle. There was no such luck here. The hand moved down to Logan's neck and pressed it down hard into the mattress of the hard hospital bed. Logan squirmed to get away but the hand didn't move. Instead another hand was pressed to his temple, this hand brandishing a hand pistol. Which was loaded. And off the safety catch. Damn. Logan started to yell but Andrew nipped that in the bud by tightening his grip and preventing air from getting to Logan.  
"Don't do that again or bad things will happen to you. Got it, mate?" Logan nodded his head rapidly, air reserves running dangerously low. Not a good thing. Ever. The hand released and Logan gulped down a huge packet of air. His lungs filled and Logan could (almost) utter a sigh of relief. He was still trapped by a madman but he could breathe again. Which was definitely a plus. Logan's adrenaline kicked in right there with...not so great consequences. Logan pushed himself away from Andrew and curled up into a little ball to protect himself. That was how it was supposed to work anyway. Logan had failed to notice the knife in Andrew's pocket which he soon whipped out and caught Logan's arm. Logan couldn't help but yelp when the knife dug cruelly into his arm, causing dark red blood to slip from the wound. His nerves were rubbed raw from the last few days, his morphine now needed to be topped up and his foot wasn't healed just yet. The foot which Andrew was leaning on. The shot foot Andrew was leaning on after pulling it out of Logan's tight tuck. Logan shivered and squirmed as Andrew put more and more weight on his foot.  
"Please! Stop!" Logan whimpered out pitifully. Andrew looked impassive and just pressed harder. Logan screamed out, alerting people of his "problems". A barrage of people came to the door and Andrew looked livid.  
"Oh, you're going to pay for that now." Logan didn't want to know what the payment was going to be.

...

James was swinging his legs back and forth on the roof of the hospital, no intentions of jumping what so ever. James loved high places. He loved seeing the world down below, unaware of his problems and worries. The people below him just carried on with their lives, not bothering or noticing James as he watched their lives unfold. It was a weird feeling, seeing everything going on at once. James would probably never meet these people but he watched their day go on in silence. Until someone found out he was missing and came looking for him. Like Kendall had. Kendall had been on the ground floor and seen James electric green high tops swinging back and forward above him. Then Kendall had obviously subsequently freaked out and ran to "talk him down from the roof". Logan had then phoned James to tell him he was an idiot and that Kendall and Carlos were coming to "save" him. James laughed out loud. He loved his friends but their constant vigilance was extremely fun to take advantage of. The door up to the roof banged open and a very flustered Kendall and Carlos shot out onto the roof. Their eyes darted around until they found the still form of James looking down to watch the new parents take their little baby out of the hospital doors to their car.  
"Jay?" Carlos asked, sitting quietly next to James. James grinned at him and looked back down. "You...OK?" Carlos pressed on, unnerved by the smile.  
"Uh huh. You see those people down there? They have a little baby, you see it? They're taking him home for the first time. You can see the nurse helping with their things and telling them how to look after him. It's a him because can you see the blanket? It's blue so I guess it's a little boy." James explained as he smiled. Carlos looked back at Kendall who shrugged his shoulders. Kendall was leaning against the door, fighting the urge to grab James and Carlos back from the edge of the roof and never let them out of his sight. His mind was making up scenarios of James leaning too far forward, falling to his death and accidently taking Carlos with him. Kendall shut his eyes tightly to push the pictures away. They just swirled around faster. Images of Logan's shock and grief. He wasn't in the best position to receive more bad news, more pain. Logan had had enough pain to last anyone at least two lifetimes.  
"Kendall? What's the matter?" James asked from the edge, concerned. Kendall didn't look good. His eyes were screwed up as were his fists and he was sweating a bit. Kendall opened his eyes and extreme fear flitted through them.  
"Guys, do me a huge favour and...and just come over here, please." The words were strained. James and Carlos looked at each other. They pushed themselves up and walked away from the ledge. Kendall felt all the worry seep away. He sighed and rested his head against the door going down into the hospital.  
"James, could you...not do that again? Please?" Kendall asked, pleading underneath the question. It hit James in the gut. Kendall was scared for James. He must have thought...must have thought James was close to falling. James' conscience hit him hard and James wrapped his arms around Kendall. No one ever asked Kendall if he was OK. Logan always got asked because he was always, always, always getting himself hurt. Carlos was asked because a few people thought his erratic behaviour was due to a hit top the head or an underlining illness. James was such a dramatic person that everything was a big deal so he got asked if he was OK over tiny little thing. But Kendall...Kendall was an enigma. He was always strong, always the leader, always looking after everyone else. In fact, he was always so busy looking after everyone else, he forgot to look after himself. He got himself so worked up it either burst out in a regrettable act of violence or he just...broke down. All the stress had been building up lately and Kendall had just bottled it all up. Now, he needed to get rid of it. James decided to tackle the big issue that was most definitely prey on Kendall's mind.  
"What happened to Logan when it was just you and him in the stone room?" Kendall froze, sighed and let the words tumble out.

_Logan was on the floor, barely conscious as his father stood in front of him. Kendall was made to watch. He couldn't help if he wanted to which he dearly did. Logan was being hurt. Hurt bad and Kendall was trapped. The glinting red knife slid down Logan's back making brand new vivid red lines stand out. Then David Mitchell did something that sickened Kendall to his stomach. He lifted the knife into the light and licked it clean.  
"Mmm. My favourite treat." The knife was jammed back into Logan's back as Logan sobbed quietly, murmuring about being so, so, so sorry and begging for forgiveness. His pleas were ignored as the knife slid slowly over his face, straining in red. Logan's salty tears stung his face as he sobbed but he couldn't stop crying. The pain...the pain was too much. Kendall was terrified. He wanted to, needed to, help his friend. But he couldn't. And that hurt more than any bruise or cut he had ever received._

"That's what happened. That fucking sicko just kept cutting Logan up to ribbons and I SAT THERE AND DID NOTHING!" Kendall screamed. James shook Kendall hard.  
"Listen, Kendall, LISTEN TO ME! There was nothing you could have done! Logan knew that too! He doesn't hate you for it. He only wishes he didn't have to see it." The mighty leader of Big Time Rush broke down. The tears ran free on top of the hospital roof. Kendall was free of the burden of grief and guilt. A heavy burden that had been pressing down on him for days. Then a loud bang awakened them from their nice bonding moment.  
"That sounded like..." Carlos started but James and Kendall had already started running down the stairs. Carlos usually didn't mind being short but right now his small legs just weren't long enough to catch up with the other two. Within 5 minutes they were all outside Logan's room. A massive crowd was around and the boys had to push people forcibly out of the way to reach the door.  
"Sorry boys, can't let you any closer." A doctor stood in front of them, hands outspread. The boys started to argue when a second shot rang out. Then no one could stop the three boys from forcing their way close to the door and closer to their ailing friend. No one could stop them now. They had to help and help they would, no matter what.

...

**Ahhaha! I'm back, bubbas! Back from 4 days with Nyree, Emma, Catrin, Iona, Joanne, Matthew, Padruig, Kenneth, Angus, Ruiraidh and Eoghan and being driven around in a bright yellow bus by Lobsters and Hoggatron. Uh huh. Feeling slightly dizzy from sugar and "Aye Aye Uppy" being played constantly. Anyways, happiness all round! **

**Oh yeah! And I met people from Minnesota but the first thing they heard me say was, "Fuck! Eoghan, you PRICK!" because Eoghan had made me go paddling in the water fountain with him and I was cold. ;D **

**Guess what these people are too awesome for words; Logan Henderson Is Mine, a paper-a person-a promise, mandy124, xBleepblapbloopx , chanson, Cooperbear22, 2 kool to spell "kool" right, Musiclovesbest, MiSs-vIcToRy96, squoctobird, femaleodd, fdnjskfdsjgkd, Milkamoo97, xAccioBTRx, princessabbie10, Melinda Grazz, DaniiLuvsBTR, Mojo2011, HappinessComesThroughMusic, .thing Crazyguy and CheekyBrunette****! **

"**I quite like men" "I **_**Love **_**men." God, I love Nyree sometimes. **

**Elli x**


	39. Chapter 39: Balance

...  
Balance  
...

Logan rolled right of the hospital, ignoring the various wires and crap being pulled out of his arms. Right now, that was the least of his problems. There was a gun toting maniac in the room as well who just happened to be after Logan's blood as some sort of deal with his deranged father. Yup, no matter how you said that, you still sound like you're in a really crap thriller movie that probably has a famous actor in it. Yeah. Logan shot under the bed and hid his head. He watched the shoes move quickly around the bed then a hand grabbed the cuff of his tee. He was pulled backwards so fast, he probably had whiplash now. Logan struggled for breath as Andrew held him up in front of the door. Logan saw Kendall, James and Carlos hammering on the door franticly, trying to save him. Logan didn't say a thing, he couldn't but he told them with his eyes to stop. Logan had a plan. A really really really risky plan. So risky that Logan was definitely in the "death imminent" side of the plan spectrum. But still. Worth a shot. Better than sitting around and waiting to die. Logan started to swing his legs back and forth until Andrew's hand was pulled so far back, he had to drop Logan to the floor. Then, on a whim, Logan pressed Andrew to the floor by leaning on his arms. He then shot a desperate look towards the doors. A "Jesus! Help me, guys!" look. The police pushed his best friends out of the way until they could easily knock the glass doors in. Glass flew in the air, bright lights glimmering in the sunlight. A few shards landed on Logan and Andrew, becoming imbedded in the skin. There was a second of momentary silence until the throngs of people flooded into the room. Police officers, doctors and his best friends shot into the room. Logan was heaved off of the psychopath and onto the floor. The short brunette landed, back first, onto millions of shards of glass. Logan bit his lip gently, trying to avoid screaming and letting everyone know he was in pain. The boys were instantly around him, trying to pick him off the floor. Kendall's hands brushed Logan's back and his eyes widened fast.  
"Jesus, Logan! Your back...it's completely covered in glass!" Logan hissed quietly at the pressure on his back. He tried to arch his back and stand up.  
"No! Don't do that, Logan. That will shove the glass in deeper. Just...just stay still right now, OK? Just wait until a couple of doctors come over." James whimpered gently as Logan's eyes started streaming tears. Real, painful and stinging tears. His face has tracked with sparkly clear tears as he couldn't hold the screams back anymore. The scream was so sharp and pain filled, it brought the doctors to a standstill and swarmed around the in pain boy. Logan couldn't even bring himself to apologize the mess of blood he was making in the middle of the floor even though that was what he wanted to do most at the point when he collapsed into unconsciousness.

...

Mrs Knight was worried. Incredibly worried. Her Logan, her baby, was unconscious in a separate room, hidden away while the glass shards were being pulled from his back. His entire back looked crystalline in the light of the hospital windows. He shimmered in the light as a few doctors came in and rolled him onto his stomach to try and prevent the pain any further. It didn't work. In the end, they had to sedate him because the pain was causing him to writhe around so much. Mrs Knight didn't believe that it was just the pain of the imbedded glass that was bothering Logan so much. It was the fact that no matter where or when, his father could still attack Logan. David Mitchell had many associates, associates who wouldn't think anything of attacking a sixteen year old boy in cold blood just to get even or just for "old time's sake". It disgusted her. She would never ever have let any of those disgusting creatures anywhere near her children but David Mitchell allowed his son to become a punching bag for others. She had seen the look on his face when he was only young when he saw one of his dad's "friends" drive up to the house. Mrs Knight had dropped Logan off after a sleep over with Kendall and Logan had noticed a black car at the driveway. She had seen how he had frozen stiff and was unwilling to leave the car. She also saw the clunky semi red stained cast he had around his leg the next time she had seen him. She let her head drop into her awaiting hands. This was so sad, so painful and so completely avoidable. This was a family domino effect. Cassandra had fallen, taking David with her and instead of falling completely over, David had put the pressure instead on his kids. His too young to understand kids. When Cassandra had died, Logan was four. Four years old. He wasn't thinking about how his family was breaking up around him. He only knew his mama wasn't around anymore. Logan had told Mrs Knight once about the time he had been taken to see his mother in the hospital. He didn't remember too much except the beeping, the wires and his father saying it was all Logan's fault. That was the first day David Mitchell had said that to his son. It was also the first time he had hurt his son on purpose. Mrs Knight remembered too. It was the first time Logan had completely withdrawn himself from everyone. He had always been quiet, yes but not to this extent. Kendall had come home that day frowning and telling his mother that there was something wrong with Logan. That he must be sick and that she had to go over and make him better. Mrs Knight had just smiled at the time and said that maybe Logan was just feeling a little sad that day. Kendall had taken to that idea and that was that. Or so it seemed. Logan's injuries just kept getting worse. And worse. And worse. Mrs Knight wished she could have saved her adopted son from that place. From that idyllic looking hell hole. She wished that maybe David Mitchell could have looked after his children like his wife wanted him to. If Cassandra was around today, she wouldn't recognize the man she married. Hell, no one recognized David Mitchell as the considerate man he had been when his wife was alive. He was a shade now. Just a shade of the man he used to be. All the kindness had died with Cassandra and now just an empty, broken twisted shell remained. And sometimes Mrs Knight thought she would have preferred it if David had died instead of living and inflicting so much pain and suffering upon his beautiful children. If he had died then the Garcias' or the Diamonds' or even herself would have adopted the two young children. But instead they got stuck with a negligent, abusive "guardian" for 10 years. Guardians are supposed to look after the children but who is supposed to protect the children from the guardian himself?

...

**Yich, that sucked. Anyway, after this chapter is out of the way** I can** start on the fun that is delving deeper into Logan's tortured noggin. Hurray! **

**Oh! PS. For Cheeky and Irish Maslow; I shall make a new multi chapter after Bullied about when he wakes up and deals with the aftermath because you both asked so nicely. **

**I Love love love Logan Henderson Is Mine, a paper-a person-a promise, mandy124, xBleepblapbloopx , chanson, Cooperbear22, 2 kool to spell "kool" right, Musiclovesbest, MiSs-vIcToRy96, squoctobird, femaleodd, fdnjskfdsjgkd, Milkamoo97, xAccioBTRx, princessabbie10, Melinda Grazz, DaniiLuvsBTR, Mojo2011, HappinessComesThroughMusic, .thing Crazyguy and CheekyBrunette****!**

**I name my pineapples. Because I'm badass like that.**

**Elli x**


	40. Chapter 40: Backlash

...  
Backlash  
...

The whole incident was hard on Logan. Hey, wouldn't you be at least a little bit traumatised if a gun toting maniac came into your room and tried to kill you to even up the score as a favour for you father? Not to mention, the past abuse that ranged ten years. Logan's mind was damaged. Damaged beyond the realization of the doctors. They thought had sedating Logan was the humane thig to do. They were partially right but by sedating him, they had let all the abuse flood back to him and after the sudden and recent trauma, Logan's mental walls were weak and all the abuse just pushed past them and manifested themselves as nightmares that played over and over. And there was nothing Logan could do about it. He was going to be asleep, he couldn't consciously put the bad thoughts behind their wall and back into the prison. He just had to ride it out. For how long? Who knew. All Logan knew is that he was in for one hell of a nap. Already the nightmares were starting to take hold. For once, Logan felt his control slipping. This made his figurative hackles rise and he instantly tried to fight back. Logan tried to stay awake and begged the doctors to let him stay awake. The faces looked down on him expressionless but then a yell momentarily caught their attention.  
"Don't do that to him! Please!" Carlitos? Logan wanted to ask but his mind was getting fuzzy and he tried to shake himself back awake. It didn't work. Logan realised this once the darkness started to fade in and steal his vision away from him. He felt like he was being shaken.  
"Logan! Come on, stay awake! You know what happens when you go to sleep. The nightma-..." That's all Logan heard until the snap of a whip awoke him from his reverie. He looked up to see his father bearing over him, whip in hand, eyes blazing and smoke coming out of his nostrils. Well, he lied about the last one but David Mitchell didn't look too far from breathing fire. That's all he needed. Another weapon against the innocent boy. Logan shook with fear but was surprised when his father's eyes cooled. Too cool. This wasn't drunk Mr Mitchell, this was extremely sober Mr Mitchell. If anything, Logan feared his father sober than drunk. Yes, when he was drunk, he hit more but when he was sober...he was in complete control of his actions and was a lot more vindictive. He played on Logan's emotions when sober. He had once tied Logan up and hissed threats at him, involving him killing all his little friends in front of Logan's eyes, forcing him to watch as he slit Carlos' throat, sliced Kendall up into tiny little pieces and shot James right through the head several times until it was impossible to tell there was a face there at one point. Logan had silently sobbed and tried his hardest not to close his eyes through that terrifying session because he knew that his mind was going to conjure up the disgusting images as he slept. Logan still had terrible nightmares about his father's threat actually coming true and after any of those nightmares, Logan had to get up and make sure they were still alive and in one piece, to make sure they weren't dead. It sicken Logan to think how much power David had over him but he couldn't really dwell on it because this nightmare didn't like being ignored and decided to make its' presence known. The whip shot down and sliced open Logan's arm with ease. The 6 year old Logan looked up in fear to his father, almost in sync with the 16 year old one. Logan was always scared of his father for a few reasons but one of them was definitely the fact that he had free reign over Logan. If David Mitchell needed to work out some anger on Logan, he could just find him in his room and Logan couldn't do anything about it. David Mitchell had instilled a punishing way of making sure that Logan would never tell anyone about the abuse. David had forced Logan to say the word "abuse" over and over and every time he did, Logan got tased. Soon Logan broke down and refused to say it anymore. He never breathed a word about it. The 16 year old Logan still never said that word. The psychological stopping force made sure that after the years, no one honestly knew all about what happened in that house. The scars did tell stories but the healed injures or the injuries no one could see affected Logan deeply but he never once let slip what actually happened. David Mitchell still had a sizable amount of power over Logan and Logan wasn't afraid to admit it. He knew that he was trapped out his father thumb.  
"ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?" David asked calmly, raising his voice only in volume, leaning close to Logan, knowing full well how much it would hurt his ears. Logan winced and fought the urge to cover his ears. Then David smiled and left from Logan's view. Logan poked his head out from behind his palm and watched as his father rammed a metal poker like thing into the stove and heated it up. Logan couldn't remember what that was exactly and it wasn't a comforting thought. It was probably going to hurt like hell then Logan will never be able to forget the experience for as long as he lived. It was a vicious circle. Forgetting the abuse then having it spring right upon him again in his sleep. Logan seriously hated his life sometimes. Yeah. Logan watched paralysed for the second time as his father pulled on a worn oven glove and pulled out the red hot poker. Then he turned to Logan, sick smile still in place. Logan shivered and pushed himself into the corner in the vain hope that he could get away from the nightmare. The searing pain in his left shoulder told him, no, he hadn't gotten away. His shoulder screamed indignantly as David Mitchell rammed the poker deeper into Logan's seared skin. If it could still be called skin. It felt alien against his shoulder and looked like burnt food or soot scattered in a random shape on his skin. But the pain...the pain told him that this was definitely his skin singed to hell and back. Then David removed the poker and Logan could see the shape of the crudely made D and M on his shoulder. The sight sickened him. He was branded. He would never forget, never get away, never escape. His father thought he owned his son and by branding Logan with his initials, he made sure that Logan knew that he was owned. Logan hated the feeling but he couldn't run. Then the over bearing beating began. Logan blanked out at that point or woke up as it seemed. The bright florescent lights blinded Logan momentarily. It was dark. Logan's eyes searched for any signal about what time it was. The white clock on the wall told him it was 3 in the morning or just about. Logan frowned. He had lost at least 5 hours to sleeping nightmares. He looked around him and had to hold back a laugh. Carlos was sprawled on the bed, James was hang (literarily) off the bed and Kendall was basically lying on Logan's legs. None of the above positions sounded or looked comfortable but there you go. The lengths friends will go to. Logan flexed his shoulder and subconsciously rubbed his left one. He froze when he felt the gentle indentation of a D and a M. Shit. That was real. Logan shrugged his tee to his elbow and saw in the mirror behind him the deep dark purple brand standing out against his pale, pale skin. It was real. He was really branded. He was really owned by his father. He couldn't escape. He was trapped forever by that sick brand and all the old and new scars that littered his body. Trapped, trapped, trapped and there was nothing he could do. He just had to hide this from the others or...or...Logan didn't know what would happen afterwards and quite frankly, he didn't know what would happen. Logan has had enough things going on in his life but Logan couldn't quite shake the feeling that the brand meant something more than just a little shaped scar. That it was something terrible. Almost like...slavery. Like he was...property.

...

**TaDaaaa! Finally finished this chapter. Thank goodness. Cheeky, I applaud your branding idea and I really want to run with it for a while. We all know Kendall is going to go fucking mental when he finds out. ;D**

**I Love love love Logan Henderson Is Mine, a paper-a person-a promise, mandy124, xBleepblapbloopx , chanson, Cooperbear22, 2 kool to spell "kool" right, Musiclovesbest, MiSs-vIcToRy96, squoctobird, femaleodd, fdnjskfdsjgkd, Milkamoo97, xAccioBTRx, princessabbie10, Melinda Grazz, DaniiLuvsBTR, Mojo2011, HappinessComesThroughMusic, .thing Crazyguy and CheekyBrunette****!**

**Don't be too open-minded, your brains will fall out.**

**Elli x**


	41. Chapter 41: Caught

...  
Caught  
...

Logan had fallen back asleep after the terrifying thought of being owned at struck him down. For once, God decided Logan had had enough shit today and Logan was having a relatively dreamless sleep. Kendall however...wasn't. He was having some weird dreams about Logan being hurt then James falling from the roof, Carlos lying on the floor bleeding to death, Katie screaming for help as she falls to the floor, it just kept going on and on. Then, thankfully, the dreams faded away, mere shadows and Kendall came back to the land of the living for a while. Kendall wondered how Logan survived if these horrible experiences were the norm for him. How he managed to keep carrying on in life. But Logan was like a glacier he had learned about in Geography. It takes all the rocks and stuff in its stride and just carries on going, never stopping or slowing down. Like Logan did every day. Logan has never stopped going forward nor has he ever moaned or whinged about his predicament at home. He just got up, shook himself down and carried on. Kendall wished to the heavens had he could have that great ability. But, he reasoned, he also wished that Logan didn't have to use that ability so often. Logan had so much shit going on in his life...if (or when) he sold his life story, thousands would think he embellished but he would probably just bring it down to its' bare bones. Because that was the type of thing Logan did. Kendall sat up slowly and looked over at his sleeping best friend. Logan looked a bit more peaceful than he did a few hours ago. Even though he kept trying to scratch the heck out of his left shoulder blade. Kendall eased himself out of the position he was previously sleeping in. He tried to pry Logan's hand out from behind his back. Logan winced and pulled back again, trying to rub the shoulder again. Kendall had to press Logan's arm down into the bed and he winced at the sight of the dark red blood littering underneath Logan's short nails. Logan gasped and shot straight up almost slamming into Kendall.  
"Jeez Logan! Are you OK?" Logan nodded quickly, too quickly and Kendall watched as he plastered on a terribly fake plastic reassuring smile that covered his extreme panic at Kendall's realization. Kendall hated that plastic fake and felt the terrible need to pull it away so that he could understand why his Logie was so scared right now.  
"Nuh uh. You aren't fine. You were ripping out your skin in your dreams. What is it?"  
"Nothing! Nothing, honest. Really! Promise!" Logan flustered. If Kendall didn't know before if Logan was lying before, he certainly did now. His panicky lies were written all over his pale face. Kendall frowned and watched Logan in silence. Logan kept fumbling on and on constantly. Kendall watched Logan with a heavy frown. He wished Logan could just tell him the truth about these things, the things that bothered him so much. But of course, his father had oppressed this sanity of telling others when there was a problem every since the abuse had started and Kendall hated it. Kendall hated the fact that his father had squished all the fight out of Logan, all the fight that would have saved him a lot of the pain that was inflicted on him. But that was the past and now, Kendall needed to find out what was eating Logan's insides away.  
"Logan, it's OK. You can tell me. I promise, I really do." Kendall pleaded, hands on his lap. Logan froze up. Should he tell Kendall? Tell Kendall that he was property of his father? That no matter what he was always, always, always going to be trapped? Of course not. Kendall would be angry and very hurt that Logan hadn't told him earlier. And a angry and hurt Kendall was one of the last things Logan needed right now. Logan shook his head quickly, saying "it's nothing, really" and "I really can't tell you..." It hurt Kendall a lot that Logan could trust him. All he wanted to do was help but Logan was making that hard. Kendall had a sudden surge of anger and has ashamed of himself for having to reign in such an angry thought towards his best friend. If Kendall's anger had taken control, Logan would be face first on the ground right now all because he didn't answer Kendall's question. Kendall shook his head in an effort to get rid of the terrible thought. Logan hid his head underneath the bed covers, a very childish thing to do but when Logan couldn't escape, he hid away. Kendall sighed and pulled at the covers in an attempt to get at least a few answers. Logan pulled back, shoving his heels in and not letting the cover show even an inch of his short, spiky black hair. Kendall carried on to pull at the covers, trying not to awake the other two boys lying on the bed. Logan squealed as his grasp failed and fell backwards onto his back. Logan's eyes widened and he began giggling hard. He tried to muffle his giggles with his hand and stop his eyes from watering. Kendall smiled too but went straight back to the question.  
"Just tell me what's bugging you, Logan!" Kendall asked, tired of this whole thing by now. Logan didn't seem to understand that the faster Kendall got this out of him, the better he would definitely feel. But Logan just pushed Kendall away. Well, more accurately, Logan rolled over onto his back and refused to let Kendall see his face. He also refused to answer any of Kendall's questions. Which got on Kendall's nerves. A lot. Kendall finally got bored of the whole thing and grabbed Logan's shoulders to turn him around so that hopefully, Logan would finally answer his questions. But as Kendall grabbed his left shoulder, Logan yelped loudly. Kendall froze and before Logan could react, he had already pulled his tee down to his upper arm and was inspecting for damage. Which he found in the bloody red brand that stood out vividly against Logan's shoulder.  
"Shit...when...when did that happen? Logan?" Logan rolled onto his back again, wincing as the long scratches were pressed against the hard hospital bed.  
"Umm...w-when I was little. It didn't hurt...that bad. I swear, it's nothing. Just a scar, really. Please don't tell, Kendall." The last thing Logan said was so...pleading, so helpless that Kendall hade to fight the urge to cradle him like a baby. Instead, he sat down beside him and wrapped him in a one armed hug.  
"Why Logan? What's the matter?" Kendall asked, almost whispering as he gently rubbed soothing circles on Logan's back. Logan let his head rest against Kendall's shoulder.  
"Well, if the press finds out then my life will be hell. You all know that right? They are probably already having a field day over all of this, when they find out my own father branded me with a flaming hot poker, they will have a freaking aneurism over it but not before publishing their stories and you know it. Right now, I'm a newspaper's dream and fair game to the rest of the world. I don't want it. I just what to forget it all happened. I want to make it all go away and go back to two weeks ago when all that mattered was singing, having fun and hiding from Camille from time to time. All this...all this horrible stuff is just getting me down a lot and...and I...I..." Logan had slowly dropped off, eyelids flickering until they stayed shut. Kendall tried to move the sleeping brunette off his shoulder but Logan hissed in discomfort as he tried to move closer to Kendall. Looks like he's stuck for right now. Kendall let Logan lay on his shoulder as he tried to grasp what Logan had said. True, the press were outside the hospital at all hours trying to get a photo of the beaten boy. So many of them that Gustavo had asked Freight Train to stand in front of the room and make sure none of the crazy journalists got in. If any did, they would violate Logan in his most fragile state and no one deserved that. Kendall carried on rubbing the soothing circles as he realised something startling. Logan was ill, definitely. But the doctors had stopped coming in. They must have forgotten or something. That or just chalked it up to tiredness or some shit. As Kendall watched the others sleep, he realised that it didn't matter. That everything would turn out OK in the end. Eventually. The aftermath of these events was going to be hard to deal with but Kendall could deal with it. As long as he had his friends. The question was...could the others deal with it as well?

...

**Fwaaa. Done at last. :/ Now, I get the fun job of therapy sessions for everyone and delving into other people's minds. WHOOOHOOO! I love my "job". XD Anyways, is there any horrible, lovely torture you want Logan to go through? Psychologically or physically? (Cheeky...I'm a talking to youuuuuu) Cos, remember, a mass remembering sessions is going to be done because there is going to be a separate trial. That's all I'm telling. Remeber torture isn't out of the question because my bastard Mr Mitchell has a lot of shady friends. MWHAHAHAHA! Don't worry about this ending soon neither. I ain't finished just yet. ;D**

**P.S Has anyone seen the Kat's Crew episode? Well, I did. And I have something to say to them. *BITCHSLAP THEN BACKHAND THOSE ARSES* NO PRESSURISING MY...oops...OUR LOGAN! COS IF YOU DO, JUST ONE MORE TIME... *Suddenly grows 5 metres and gets evil red eyes* I shall come and GET you. Clear? Good. ;)**

**I loveitty love love love Logan Henderson Is Mine, a paper-a person-a promise, mandy124, xBleepblapbloopx , chanson, Cooperbear22, 2 kool to spell "kool" right, Musiclovesbest, MiSs-vIcToRy96, squoctobird, femaleodd, fdnjskfdsjgkd, Milkamoo97, xAccioBTRx, princessabbie10, Melinda Grazz, DaniiLuvsBTR, Mojo2011, HappinessComesThroughMusic, .thing Crazyguy and CheekyBrunette****! Don't you feel looooooved?**

"**Do you think she bought it?" "I don't know, let me just ask my RAINBOW NINJA UNICORN!"**

**Elli x**


	42. Chapter 42: Infiltrate

...  
Infiltrate  
...

The next morning, Logan was feeling a lot more...chipper. His eyes sparkled and his smile was more prominent and less fake. And so, the others brightened along with him. The energy was brought back to the group and the day seemed a bit brighter because of it. The sun was shining and the people inside the formally depressing room were filling it up with their laughter and smiles. Logan was sitting lotus style on his bed with Carlos sprawled on the bottom of the bed, James curled up by the bed in the huge blue chair and Kendall sitting beside Logan in the bed, lightly shoving Logan from time to time. It was a happy scene for once in the hospital. No disturbing nightmares or massive blowouts. Just a quiet day. So quiet that Kendall actually agreed with Logan's moaning that the guys had to get some fresh air.  
"If I'm not allowed outside then I want someone to go out for a few hours and tell me what its like out there!" Logan had grumbled good heartedly. In fact, Logan was worried about his three friends. They were looking very pale and drawn and Logan thought that "Recommending that they" (i.e forcing them to) relax for a while might just make they feel and look a bit more healthy. So that's how Logan ended up resting in his room reading a book whilst being hooked up to all his machines while the other guys were frog marched out into the hot LA air to relax for a while. They had been shoved outside by Katie and Mrs Knight and severely weakened by Logan's puppy eyed look. I mean, who could resist a puppy eyed sick Logan? Only someone completely heartless, that's who. Anyway, Logan was sitting in his room on his own when he heard a snap. Logan blinked and rested the heavy Harry Potter book on his folded knees. Mentally dog marking the page he was on, Logan closed the book over gently and looked around for a source of this weird ticking. Two more rapid clicks were heard as Logan slid gently off the bed. He was sure the clicking was coming from behind the curtains by the door which were used in an emergency as screens. Logan slowly hobbled over to the curtains when the clicking stopped. Logan grabbed the rough material of the curtain and pulled it back to reveal a photographer with a huge camera and a journalist ready to pounce.  
"Kate Gallaway, Daily Mail. Logan Mitchell, is it true you are here because of an abusive attack?" Logan couldn't answer, the light of the camera and shock of finding someone in the room was overtaking his ability to speak. Logan backed away from the advancing journalist who had a steady, determined gaze. This woman was used to getting the stories she wanted, to hell with the victims she violated in the process.  
"Mr Mitchell, did your father do this?" Again, Logan didn't reply merely backed away until he bumped into the foot of his bed. Logan leapt onto the bed and shuffled his way down to the headboard. He fumbled for the mobile on the bedside cabinet but the reporter got there first and snatched it away.  
"T-that's m...mine!" Logan rasped, throat dry and eyes wide. He really wanted his friends to drop kick these pushy people out of the hospital. The reporter took away the nurse call button too and leaned in close to Logan, ignoring his frantic, animalistic eyes giving her clear warning signals to stay away.  
"You see, Mr Mitchell, you are big news right now and I need big news. Ergo, you ain't going nowhere until I get my story. Savvy?" Logan yelped and rolled straight off of the bed onto the floor on the other side. The photographer was still taking frantic pictures. Kate snapped at him.  
"Not now, you idiot. Get pictures of him looking all weak and pathetic." Then her laser eyes honed in on Logan who was sitting on the floor.  
"You, look all pathetic. Don't worry, by the way you look right now, you don't have to act too much." Her cruel smile hurt Logan and then she grabbed his arm. She pulled him up onto the bed again just by his arm. He yelped loudly but Ms Gallaway gave his a withering glare that made him shut his mouth quickly.  
"Now. Answer the questions. Did your father do this to you? Let the people know what they what to know." When Logan didn't answer, she twisted his wrist tightly. Logan looked up at her fierce dark eyes that were filled with annoyance.  
"Don't push me, Logan Mitchell. I am what's known as..ah, having a short temper. I'm also a little bit violent. I'm not scared of getting my hands dirty for a good story that will earn me a hellava lot of money. Do you know the first reporter to get an interview from you will probably be able to retire soon after? And I want that reporter to be me. Got it?" With the words "got it", Kate Gallaway twisted Logan's wrist further and Logan that to bite back a scream. With a few tears dashing down his face, Logan nodded quickly. Kate released Logan's wrist and Logan barely noticed that the constant clicking noise had disappeared. In fact, the photographer had turned away, ashamed. And with good reason. He had dreamt about working with this successfully reporter but now, he saw her for what she was. A good for nothing bully. She was bullying and assaulting this poor hurt boy for her own uses of a "good" story. Logan hissed in pain as she pressed her weight onto his poor hand. A sheer weight shoved the door open with ease and a police man decked out in full uniform, gun drawn entered the room.  
"Put my son down. Now." The Hispanic man spoke and Logan recognised the voice as Officer Garcia. OOoooh, this Kate Gallaway was in the shit now.  
"What gives you the authority to threaten me?"  
"A few things. The fact that I'm part of the police force, you are hurting my son and I have a gun. Pick your favourite reason. Personally, mine is the gun." Kate scowled and was about to retort but just then there was a huge uproar. The photographer turned to see the other four members of Big Time Rush looking suitably angered by their band mate and friend being hurt by a rogue reporter. The photographer felt there was only one thing to do and he really hoped it was the right thing to do. He opened to door for them and before too long, Kate Gallaway was pulled kicking and screaming from the room into the hallway where Freight Train was waiting to "escort" her out of Logan's room and hopefully, life. The photographer then handed the photo card over to the boys with the parting words of "I'm really sorry, boys." The boys were so concerned over Logan that they started babbling about random nothings in an attempt to calm themselves down. Then everyone's attention was drawn back to Logan as he flexed his hand a few times and winced. He looked up to see three concerned sets of eyes watching him carefully.  
"I'm fine guys. Promise." Logan muttered, twisting his wrist back and forth. If the other guys had something to say about the reporter incident, they were keeping it to themselves. And Logan didn't mind that too much really. He had had enough grief to last him a lifetime but naturally, his troubles weren't finished just yet. The fact of the matter was that the doctors had recommended that everyone involved in the incident should get some counselling. None of the boys wanted counselling but when met with Mrs Knight's death glare, they all soon admitted that counselling wasn't such a bad idea. It didn't mean that they wanted to go. Two weeks until their first appointment. Until then? The boys were definitely planning on enjoying themselves and being grateful that, no matter what, through everything that had happened in those two weeks, they still stuck together and nothing, nothing would ever, ever break them apart.

...

**Awwwwwww. Ain't that cute...hang on. I don't remember writing this...It must have been one of my imaginary peeps. Well, It couldn't have been Sig Hansen cos he's busy being all fishermanny skippery in the corner with his maps...O.o and it couldn't have been Cornish because Cassie kidnapped him for a while (I'll find him later) or Edgar Hansen cos he and him are always playing Seal Bomb Time Bomb (I am winning 67-64) so it's either Norman Hansen or The One Who Doesn't Speak. I'd ask them but...they don't really...talk. So. Hmmm. ANYWAY! I hope you are enjoying my humble little story. ;D I love you allllll remember! I just can't be bothered listing you all. FAIL. **

**Lookit over there! A distraction! **

**Elli x**


	43. Chapter 43: Carlos

...  
Carlos  
...

Carlos Garcia Junior sat in the psychiatrists office, bouncing the multi coloured tennis ball from one hand to the other. Carlos was humming tunelessly to himself as he waited for the "brain doctor" to come in to make sure he hasn't gone insane while Logan was kidnapped. He didn't really want to go to this doctor but his papi and Logan had made his go in case his brain had melted or something. Carlos intently disagreed with this assumption. Surely he would have noticed if his brain had melted? Anyway, he was in the office, singing random tunes and bouncing his bouncy ball that he had "borrowed" from Mrs Knight earlier. He thought that it was a stress ball but oh well, it still bouncy. He sort of wanted to go back to the hospital and talk to the guys but Logan would be in physio with his poorly foot and the guys would be sleeping because until like the smart Carlos, Kendall and James hadn't been topping and tailing with Logan and had been downing coffee and staying awake. Carlos loved them both like brothers but they were total idiots when stress was involved. Carlos was on the brink of being bored quite frankly and was almost tempted to send someone a random text to pass the time. Something like; _"Shit! The pineapples are attacking!"_ just to spice up the slowly passing time. Then the door shot open and the doctor came in. He was tall with short reddish hair and blue gray eyes and was wearing a black suit. He looked boring. Real boring. Then the doctor sat down and he smile broadly at the young Latino. Carlos couldn't help but smile right back. The man's smile was infectious.  
"Mr Garcia! It's so nice ta meet ya! I'm Doctor Mac Tavish but please call me Alasdair and as you can guess, I am Scottish through and through!" The slightly manic doctor propelled himself off his chair and leaned over the desk to shake Carlos' hand. Carlos shook the doctor's hand, smiling the entire time and watched as the doctor sat himself right back down, knocking over a few ornaments on his cluttered desk. He liked this guy. He was smiley.  
"So, I read in yar file that one of your friends is ill? Is he gettin' better now?" The doctor's electric blue eyes glimmered with genuine concern. It seemed like everything this man did was turned up to eleven and Carlos could definitely relate to that.  
"Yeah, Logan's getting better now, Doctor Mac Tavish." Carlos said, feeling oddly shy. It was weird that he was feeling so wound up lately.  
"Please, call me Alasdair or even Ali or I shall have to start calling you Mr Garcia Junior and no offence, but that's quite a mouthful." Carlos grinned with the psychologist. "Now, is there anything, anything at all on your mind lately? Anything bothering you? Remember, no one else is going to know about our chat, it's just you and me. No one else will ever have to know if you don't what to tell." Carlos looked at his suddenly very interesting shoes. His tanned face looked worried and the doctor felt a pang of sympathy for the young singing star. It couldn't be easy, juggling family, friends, school and career at such a tender age. Hell, when Alasdair Mac Tavish was 16, he was lying in till noon most days, school be damned. But Carlos looked...torn.  
"I hate it! I hate how everyone's just so...so..."  
"So scared?"  
"Yeah...I...I don't like being scared. It's not what I do. I'm supposed to be brave like my papi taught me! Not so afraid of losing. Losing my friends, losing everything. I'm meant to make everyone happy again but I'm not doing a very good job of it just yet. I'm sort of...learning who to cheer everyone up after such a awful thing happening to us. I love Logan like a brother and I wish I could just, just get rid of all his pain. Just blow it away like an annoying little cloud or just take it away like it's aa really ugly ornament." Carlos raved, scared, vulnerable chocolate brown eyes finally meeting the caring, compassionate grey blue. Carlos was scared. It was foreign, alien, almost incomprehensible to him but all completely and honestly human. The doctor knew the only thing wrong with Carlos was worry. Intense worry over his friends. He was a child but he still felt responsible. In his own words, he was the one who tried to keep them together and cheer them up. But at the moment, the stress of the moment and situation was getting to him and he was beginning to doubt himself. Carlos Garcia didn't need years of intensive therapy. He didn't need anti-depressants either. What he did need was so reassurance. Some reassurance to tell him that this was permanent. It was only a bump in his life and he was going to stride over it and life happily with his friends. Everyone needed some reassurance sometimes and today, the usually very happy Carlos was in need of the reassurance. Carlos left the office feeling...a bit better about the situation he was in. He didn't feel as if it was somehow linked to something he had done ages ago. Carlos made his way back to the hospital to find Logan. When he went into the room, he found Kendall and James looking very cute curled up beside each other asleep whilst Logan was reading a book on his gray Kindle thingy. Carlos just pointed at the other two guys in a silent fit of laughter. Carlos thought Logan looked a whole lot better now. In fact he looked a lot, lot better now. James was next for a session with the doctor but he was asleep and since this was the first time he had slept in a while, Carlos left him asleep. Logan smiled gently and mouthed "_You OK?" _silently to his slightly older friend. Carlos smiled and nodded quickly. Of course Logan would be thinking of other people even now. Carlos sat beside his best friend and began to talk quietly. It was weird that even in the worst and scariest of circumstances, the four friends could find a tiny bit of normal hiding away in the corner. And Carlos for one, was extremely thankful for this tiny pocket of normalness hidden away to keep the four boys grounded.

...

**WOO! That took forever to write but I am so glad I got it all done. And every time I saved this file it said "Windows is saving Carlos" at the bottom. Heehee! **

**I loveitty love love love Logan Henderson Is Mine, a paper-a person-a promise, mandy124, xBleepblapbloopx , chanson, Cooperbear22, 2 kool to spell "kool" right, Musiclovesbest, MiSs-vIcToRy96, squoctobird, femaleodd, fdnjskfdsjgkd, Milkamoo97, Walkin'Talkin'Ipod, princessabbie10, Melinda Grazz, DaniiLuvsBTR, Mojo2011, HappinessComesThroughMusic, .thing Crazyguy and CheekyBrunette****! Don't you feel looooooved?**

**Shuuuuuun the non-believer, shunnnnnnnnnn! **

**Elli x**


	44. Chapter 44: James

...  
James  
...

James was sitting on a red fabric sofa in a psychologist's office. He was bored and waiting, waiting, waiting for the dude to come in to make sure he wasn't a nutcase. Carlos had told him about the doctor he had gone to was really cool but when James looked around, it was obvious that he was going to a different doctor because there was a surprising lack of weird and wonderful ornaments on the desk. So James was getting a different doctor. He really hoped that this new doctor wasn't some evil witch or a bastard because James didn't need that right now. What he needed right now was a good nap and/ or a decent cup of coffee. Of some carby sugary thing. They always help even if they are super bad for you. Even if they taste like strawberries. James liked strawberries especially ones dipped in white chocolate. James' stomach grumbled and he remembered that he hadn't eaten before he had left the hospital. Oopsie. Logan was going to annihilate him. Despite being bed bound, Logan had taken it upon himself to make sure everyone was eating and healthy. James had dodged Logan's intense grilling about health because Logan had dropped off after some blood tests. James actually wished he hadn't dodged Logan's grilling because now he was starving. I mean STARVING. As in stomach rumbling, hunger pains and contemplating chewing one's own tongue hungry. James' tongue was starting to look like a decent snack. But so did the chocolate whoopee cakes on the psychologists' desk. He hadn't noticed them before. Now he could only think about the lush creamy filling and the soft biscuit goodness. Ack, no. No eating. No eating other people's food because other people are fiercely protective of their food. James bit his fingers in the vain (and impossible) hope that he would be distracted by the cake. James was dying of hunger. Literarily. His stomach was crying out for some food. James curled himself up into a ball.  
"Sorry I'm late...hey, are you...OK?"  
"Hungry." James resisted snapping at the young doctor. She was tall with shortish black hair, The doctor laughed asnd chucked the chocolate pie at James who caught it easily and proceeded to munch it quickly.  
"That stuff is for the patients, you know. Jeez, anyways, you're James Diamond, right?" James nodded, halfway through the chocolate cake thingy. The doctor laughed loudly, head thrown back, resting in the back of her swirly chair. James looked up at her, crumbs littering his mouth. He looked as if he had dropped ten years and reverted back to his 6 year old self, puppy dog eyes and all. The doctor looked over at the nervous teen and her eyes narrowed.  
"You...OK?" The doctor asked, dark hair hanging in front of her crystalline grey eyes. James was about to nod when all of a sudden, his will to make sure everyone didn't worry about him fell away. He had spent so long trying to keep calm and carry on when inside he was just so pent up, full of worry and fear and unburned anger at the world. The world that picked out Logan mercilessly ever since he was born. James just let his head droop and let the tears slowly run down his face. The doctor (who was called Doctor Elizabeth Haden) kneeled in front of James and gently wiped the running tears from James' face with a tissue. James looked up with red rimmed eyes and a tear tracked face. He was scared and needed some reassurance. He needed help, not mental help just some help that required a little understanding and a hug from a good friend. Which she wasn't. Doctor Elizabeth Haden sat in front of James and whispered soft little reassurances to make sure he got all of his anger and pain out, that he wasn't hoarding any of his pain up and hiding it. It would be unhealthy to keep all of this worry and emotion up in his mind. It was the doctor's job to make sure he stayed relatively mentally healthy. Naturally, the more she calmed James, the better he would be and then he wouldn't have to come back again. She knew that any of these young boys she and he collegues were looking at would never ever want to keep coming back to this building and reliving the experiences that took them here over and over. James wouldn't want to come back here. He didn't have any need to either. He was stable even if he needed a good cry to get rid of all that pressure that was sitting right on his shoulders as everyone did at time to time. Hell, Elizabeth had looked at the boys' files and felt like crying her eyes out. These young teenagers were facing so much at such a very young age. In a sad way she was a tiny piece thankful she didn't have the awful job of analysing Logan's mind. With all those years of abuse, his mind must be one of the scariest places on this planet, rivalled only by psycho serial killer's or Logan's father's mind. Elizabeth Haden was extra, extra happy she didn't have to give him a psych report. James dried his tears and the doctor told him he could leave, that he was fine. She couldn't hold it against him when he almost sprinted from the room. She filed in his report and put it away in her filing cabinet. You know, some days, this job got to you some days. Those days were getting a bit too common for the young female doctor's liking.

...

**Ohmygod. I am soosoosoo sorry, guys! I really missed updating! I love updating but Oliver has died...momentarily. He's been sent to the island computer dude, Willie John (Uh huh. I kid you not), to be fixed. That and for the next month I am going to a Gaelic Drama camp soooo no updating. Sorry guys! I love you all, right? Oh yeah, and I'm sorry that this chapter was kind of sucks but I felt really bad so I had to steal my mum's laptop to type this and she needs it for work so...bleuh. **

**Oh, go cry in a corner!**

**Elli x**


	45. Chapter 45: Kendall

...  
Kendall  
...

Kendall walked into the tiny room of torture. Well, that's how he saw it. It was actually a smallish room with two chairs, a desk and a couple of files. One of which was labelled "Kendall Knight". And that was why he was here. Because this stupid psych wanted to moan that he was emotionally unstable or some crap. That's what they did on TV anyways. Kendall was not crazy. He was crazy mad about his situation but not crazy crazy. Definitely not crazy. Kendall knew that. He didn't need some doctor to tell him what he already knew. Therefore there was no reason for him to be here and waste his own and some else's time. Kendall looked around quickly. Then he slid over to the door. No doctors looking at his door. Kendall slid out of the door and felt his mask of confidence wash over him. Usually there was no mask, it was natural confidence in what he did. Kendall had lost this confidence ever since Mr Mitchell had burst into their lives.  
"Mr Knight?" Damn. He had been so god damn close. Kendall spun on his heels and came face to face to a petite brunette receptionist.  
"I'm sorry Dr Hennie is taking so long but he should be along in just two moments if you would just like to go back into the examination room." Kendall just smiled and nodded like a placstic nodding dog. Buggery Diggity Daim. So close. Kendall was frog-marched straight back to the tiny room of torture. The blonde teen collapsed in the squidgy blue chair and sighed heavily. He really wanted to leave. Heck, he was considering just jumping out of the window...if it wasn't like 4 storeys up. Hmm. So Kendall was trapped in his room when the door shot open and banged off the hinges. A man in his fifties with short, short white blonde hair came into his line of view. The man picked up his file quickly and flipped through it, barely caring about what he saw. Then he dropped the file and stared Kendall full in the eye and that's when Kendall noticed the ripping purple pink scar that danced around his hazy grey blue eyes. The hockey teen's eyes widened quickly but Kendall covered it up quickly by turning to the man's desk. It was meticulous. Everything had its place and everything's place had its place.  
"Well. You obviously have serious issues with your mental health. Your anger management issues for one-" Kendall stood up quickly and slammed his hands on the desk in front of him, causing the pens on the table to jump violently.  
"I do not have issues. I do not have anger issues. I have people issues. People issues cause my anger issues so people should learn when to piss. Off." Kendall snarled at the doctor. The doctor just looked at Kendall impassively and carried on in his lecture.  
"-Are incredibly volatile and your "survivor's guilt" is causing some odd behaviour as well-"  
"Survivor's guilt? I don't have survivor's guilt! I have guilt, yeah. But who wouldn't after seeing what I saw? I saw my best friend get gutted like a fish and I couldn't do shit. That's why I have guilt. Not because I "survived" a terrible "disaster". Have you ever done that? Have you ever been kidnapped and held hostage by you best friend's deranged father?"  
"As for your protective streak-"  
"Don't...don't even go there."  
"Hmm...sensitive nerves?"  
"I protect my best friends, my brothers. There is nothing wrong with that."  
"You restrict them from living their own lives."  
"...Excuse me?" Mrs Knight didn't instil manners in her son for nothing.  
"You are stopping your friends from living their lives by "protecting" them and keeping them back because of your issues with letting people go."  
"Issues of letting people go? I don't have issues with letting people go. I have issues with letting people get hurt because I wasn't there!" Kendall and the doctor (who never gave his name) were almost nose to nose. Kendall's blazing green eyes were burning into the doctor's indifferent gray eyes. Kendall bit back the tirade of abuse he felt rising in his throat. But one statement from the doctor just let it all loose.  
"It your "protectiveness", you are stunning your friends' growth and doing as much harm as Mr Mitchell did."

Kendall froze and had to process the words. Disbelief washed over him as he stared at the man who just likened him to a psychopath. Kendall stumbled backwards and just shot out of the door. Adrenaline started pumping around his ears, drowning out the shouts of the doctor. But the adrenaline couldn't wash away the staring, accusing eyes of the other patients. Kendall just ran away, out into the full, busy LA streets. His mother wouldn't be back for another half hour. Kendall couldn't stay here though. He pulled up his hood, shielding his face from the staring people and walked down to the street down to Palmwoods. He pushed back his pain and thought about what the doctor had said. Was he hurting his friends? He had always thought he had been doing the right thing. Heck, he had always knew he had been doing the right thing. He was protecting his friends from the world. They were little, fragile and breakable. So breakable. Kendall had seen them all broken before. Never again. Kendall promised himself he would never let them get broken like that ever again. But he wasn't doing a very good job. He couldn't keep them safe from everything. Hidden dangers were everywhere, attacking them when he wasn't looking. Doubt and fear and mental pain were Kendall's enemies and he couldn't see them. Kendall looked up and was startled and surprised to find himself standing in front of the door. Kendall opened the door and hollered out to anyone in the apartment. No one was home. Kendall looked around the deathly silent flat filled with his memories and worldly belongings. Kendall shot up the stairs and looked into his room. The tidy box room where Logan had had his laughing fits and meltdowns, where Kendall had nightmares and more dreams of the future than you can count. The tiny tidy box room that was their safe haven from the world. It was the hub, where James and Carlos came to talk instead of their own room. It didn't bother the other two in the slightest, in fact Logan had admitted he wouldn't enter James and Carlos' room without industrial strength air freshener and a haz-mat suit. They had laughed and Logan had looked genuinely confused. Kendall was pulled harshly back to the present where there was silence. That terrible silence. Kendall moved downstairs again and was met by a flash of memories. Carlos and James playing MarioKart on the big TV, Logan panicking while pacing, almost sprinting, the length of the room, Katie carrying big boxes of stuff for her schemes, his mum making dinner in the kitchen. Kendall broke down. He curled himself up in the orange sofa. He didn't know what to do. He was lost. The door creaked open again and light footsteps hopped over to him cautiously.  
"Oh Kendall." The figure hugged him tightly and he breathed in the familiar scent of Jo. He let everything loose.  
"I don't know what to do." He sobbed to her as she stroked his clammy wet blonde hair back of his face.  
"I know but we'll manage. I promise. We'll make it." Kendall slipped into a dreamless sleep, fear sliding away as the darkness crept into his mind. Kendall felt like the world wasn't out for him for the first time in a very, very, very long time. He felt... at peace.

...

**Ack! I am so so so so so so so so sooo sorry everyone! My laptop broke then I went to Summer Drama School, the I went camping then I went native (explain later) and now...Oh my God, It feels amazing to be writing again! Woo! I'll start the next chapter now! I love you all and stay safe, no playing with fire. That's my job. **

"**Whatever happened to the new kid? Did he exist or was he a figment of my imagination for 3 days?"**

**Elli x**


	46. Chapter 46: Logan

...  
Logan  
...

Logan slid open the door and spotted the drab looking doctor sitting at the desk. Logan gulped down some worry and slipped into the room in a silent cat like fashion.  
"Sit down, please, Mr Mitchell." Logan had to fight the urge to leap up at least a foot in the air from the surge of panic that shot through his body. The doctor hadn't even looked up. Logan pulled a chair out from under the desk and sat right on the edge, nervously looking around the room. In was fairly clean with books, posters and the like littered around the walls. The big oak desk took up most of the room while the trinkets and papers took over most of the desk, hiding the table top almost completely. Logan felt cramped in this room, all the stuff was overpowering in such a small room. So he suddenly found the carpet extremely interesting. The colourful swirls that covered the floor were a good distraction to the dark dull eyes of the doctor that bore into him. Logan felt the doctor's eyes scan his face, looking at every single tiny detail and the unwavering stare was making Logan a little bit more that uncomfortable. In fact, it was incredibly uncomfortable. The silence hung heavily in the air until Logan lifted his head up to meet the eyes of the doctor. Then the doctor straightened up and Logan got a good look at him for the first time. The doctor was rather tall, at least 5"8, with shaven salt and pepper coloured hair with a bit more white than black and a soft tanned skin tone. His eyes though were dark and dull and just stared at Logan's terrified brown eyes. Logan's eyes shot right back down to the floor.  
"Mr Mitchell, I have the file of your injuries and the circumstances of your injuries and it is evident to me that you will have many issues because of this. The fear of other people is definitely there as you wouldn't even meet my eyes or said a single word since you came in-"  
"Umm...excuse me?" He wasn't scared of this man, he was scared he would be branded a loony by this man. Besides, it was in Logan's nature to be quiet and he was waiting for him to initiate the conversation. Logan felt his anger simmer at the pit of his stomach but he pushed it back to concentrate on what the guy was saying.  
"As I was saying," He carried on, completely ignoring his "patient". It was pretty obvious that the doctor had memorised this speech and didn't really give a shit about what Logan thought about his analysis. Even though Logan would be the one living with the outcome of the speech itself. Logan held his tongue until the doctor came out with- "And of course, your fear of confrontation is natural even though, it is obviously completely unfounded."  
"Hey, wait a second! Unfounded?" Whoa whoa whoa. Unfounded? He had been abused since he was six for Christ's sake!  
"Yes! Now, as I was saying..."  
"No, wait. How is my fear of confrontation unfounded? You said you read the file but if you had read it properly you would see that I was physically and mentally abused by my father until I was ten. Every time there was a confrontation, I was punished by a sadistic bastard! You try and not be affected by something like that!"  
"SHUT UP!" The doctor slammed his hands on the table and the papers on the table flew around the box room. "I will NOT have my professional opinion and knowledge doubt by some stupid child!" The man's face had blown up in a red flush that covered every one of his features. Logan shoved himself away from the man, eyes dulling as the memory took over. Suddenly his father was there, in that kitchen, with a tenderising mallet. He was beating it into his hand with a sickening look in his eyes and a grim beam twisting his face up. He raised the meat tenderising then let it drop on the ten year old Logan. Logan squealed as the mallet snapped two of his fingers cleanly. Logan felt as if his hand had become a lead weight. Mr Mitchell knew this and he also knew that his hand would be very, very tender. So he twisted the beat, broken ringers backwards until Logan had tears streaming down his face. Mr Mitchell threw his head back and laughed. Then he sat down, eye to eye to Logan and hissed at him.  
"Oh son of mine, does that hurt? Let daddy see." David pulled the hand over to sit it on his half of the table opposite Logan. Logan winced as his father gripped the hand tightly and twisted it awkwardly.  
"This little piggy went to market," Logan's finger popped out of socket. Logan screamed. "This little piggy stayed at home." Yet another finger shot out of its natural place. "This little piggy had roast beef," One of the broken fingers were twisted out of place causing various pops to echo around the room. "This little piggy had none." Logan was beyond screaming, tears slid down his face. "And this little piggy went wha wha wha all the way home." The other broken finger was pooped out as well. Mr Mitchell lifted his wrist and watched Logan's face screw up in utter pain as he twisted the wrist and laughed as the limp fingers hung lifeless.

Logan gasped as he came back to reality. The doctor was looking at him with a odd face.  
"I think I ought to go now..." Logan whimpered, heart thumping so hard he heard it in his head. As Logan was going outside to the waiting room, the doctor spoke up.  
"I think you should see another doctor from now on." Logan didn't answer. He was a bit preoccupied. He had a worried looking Mrs Knight in the waiting room and he took off over to her.  
"What's the matter, Mrs Knight?"  
"Oh Logan, it's just Kendall wasn't here when I came to pick him and you up. I can't think where he might have gone..." Logan stood there thinking in a halting fashion. Kendall was missing...like he had been...what if his father had gotten out...what if his father had gone after _Kendall_ this time? Logan's eyes widened and Mrs Knight caught this. She frowned at Logan's worry then she understood. Logan had gone missing and he had gotten hurt. Kendall had just gone missing...Logan was worried the same was going to happen to Kendall. She wrapped a protective arm around her "adopted" son.  
"Logan, I'm sure he's perfectly fine! I bet he went back home to the Palmwoods early. He never did like the idea of the therapy anyway..." Logan thought about this then took off out of the door, slipping his phone into his hand and sent a quick text to James and Carlos to meet him at the flat. Logan carried on running down the road towards the Palmwoods where, he hoped and prayed, Kendall was hiding.

...

**Whoo! Sorry about the wait guys! Work has been eating my life and my spare time! Ick. Hope you liked the chapter! Review, review, review!**

**I Love love love Logan Henderson Is Mine, a paper-a person-a promise, mandy124, xBleepblapbloopx , chanson, Cooperbear22, 2 kool to spell "kool" right, Musiclovesbest, MiSs-vIcToRy96, squoctobird, femaleodd, fdnjskfdsjgkd, Milkamoo97, xAccioBTRx, princessabbie10, Melinda Grazz, DaniiLuvsBTR, Mojo2011, HappinessComesThroughMusic, .thing Crazyguy and CheekyBrunette****!**

"**Oopsy! I see you accidently mis-spelt awesome with crap. I see your mistake, quite simple really.**

**Elli x**


	47. Chapter 47: Unremorseful

...  
Unremorseful  
...

Doctor Nadia Layman made her way through the traffic to the prison car park. She looked up at the imposing building where her newest patient resided. The dull grey brick building might have blended in if not for the 5 meter high fence and the thick steel bars that lined every single window. There was a cluster of houses surrounding the prison, small blocks of two story houses. Nadia shivered at the thought of living in the shadow of the intimidating building and its threatening inhabitants. She felt uncomfortable already after five minutes, imagine living right beside it for _years. _The young doctor grabbed the files sitting on the passenger seat of the car and made her way over to the gate. The files in her hands made for heavy reading. The constant abuse her patient's son had undergone was extensive and sickening. She didn't want to spent any kind of time with this psycho, let alone give him a full and extensive psych exam to examine the theory that Mr David Mitchell was insane. She didn't know exactly from the file but hopefully, she'd get a confirmation from the meeting. She actually hoped he was insane because then he couldn't be blamed for attacking his poor son in such a disgusting manner. But if he was mentally stable then he was a heartless bastard. Who attacks their son for the hell of it? Nadia shuddered and looked up to the huge gate surrounded by guards. She smiled nervously at the guards and fumbled for her ID card. After flashing them the hospital card, she was escorted up to the separate room upstairs. She opened the door and saw Mr David Mitchell in the flesh for the first time. He didn't look too threatening, in fact he was smiling at her nicely. But his eyes...his eyes let Nadia know that he was dangerous. The lightning blue eyes glimmered darkly and hide dark thoughts. The brunette doctor shook gently and plastered on a plastic smile as she came into the room to go sit down opposite the to be convicted criminal.  
"Hello, Mr Mitchell. My name is Doctor Nadia Layman. I'm just here to ask you a few questions about yourself, OK?"  
"That's perfectly fine, my dear. But please, call me David. Now, what is it you would like to know about me?"  
"Just a few personal information questions first of all. Now, full name?"  
"David Andrew Joseph Mitchell."  
"Family members?"  
"My parents, Mary and Daniel Mitchell, I had no siblings, my wife Cassandra past away a few years ago and my daughter Noelle and my son, Logan." Mr Mitchell's eyes darkened at the mention of his children and his soft, almost light hearted tone was replaced with a cold, mechanical one. The doctor quietly made a note of his dislike of his own children and carried on.  
"Now, can you explain to me why you think you are here today?"  
"Of course, my dear. The police want to make sure I am not insane and that I "hurt" Logan whilst in my own sane mind. What I don't understand is why disciplining my own son is such a problem." Nadia had to fight the urge to blanch at his word. Disciplining? He thought he was merely disciplining his son? Abusing someone was a far cry from a little tap on the wrist and a stern telling off. She carried on.  
"The police believe you have been abusing your son. What do you have to say about this accusation?" Mr Mitchell looked up as if contemplating his answer.  
"I believe it is completely unfounded! I haven't been abusing my son. Just making sure he knew who was in charge." By breaking bones and shooting him? The doctor had read Logan's medical history and felt very intrusive as she learnt the ins and outs of years of abuse that had happened in private, in the poor boy's home where he was supposed to be safe from harm. She felt very angry with the man who sat in front of her, cool as a cucumber.  
"Don't you feel any remorse?" She blurted out, eyes wildly scanning the man's face for any single thing to reveal to her that this man was ill or mentally unstable. She hoped that this man wasn't just another psychopath that had gone insane and attacked someone out of frustration and anger and the fact that he could. Doctor Nadia Layman prayed there was a mental reason this man attacked his son but she found none.  
"Remorse? Why would I feel remorse? I haven't done anything wrong to feel remorse!" This man felt no guilt over nearly killing his son. Nadia knew then that man was sane but not sane. He thought he was doing something bog standard when in fact, he was doing something disgusting and despicable. Nadia nodded.  
"I see, our time is up, I'm afraid. I'll be back some time to carry on with our chat. Until then, goodbye Mr Mitchell."  
"Please, my dear, I'd much prefer it if you called me David. Goodbye, Doctor." The man sat still, smiling gently at the disturbed psychologist, as she back out of the room. As soon as the door closed behind her, her plastic smile fell away and she had to breathe deeply to regain some calm. Such an odd chat really took a lot out of her and she slumped to the floor. The guard at the door waiting to escort her back out to the car park looked down at her sympathetically.  
"It's hard talking to him, uh? You think he's all nice and civil but I've heard him when he talks in his sleep. He screams out that he's going to murder his son in really gruesome ways. It's disgusting. You OK now?" Nadia nodded and lifted herself of the floor and brushed herself down again until she looked vaguely presentable. She knew her hair would be sticking up something fierce but she really didn't care right now. She just wanted out. Right now. Soon enough she found herself in the car and she couldn't help but be thankful she wasn't the one who had to live with Mr David Andrew Joseph Mitchell for years.

...

**Faa. It took me a while to get into this kind of mindset. And as I don't spent a lot of my time wandering around prisons, can you give me a little bitty artistic license? Please? Remember and review! It will make me happy for going back to school on Thursday! ;D**

**I Love love love Logan Henderson Is Mine, a paper-a person-a promise, mandy124, xBleepblapbloopx , BigTimeLovesong, Cooperbear22, 2 kool to spell "kool" right, Musiclovesbest, MiSs-vIcToRy96, squoctobird, femaleodd, fdnjskfdsjgkd, Milkamoo97, xAccioBTRx, princessabbie10, Melinda Grazz, DaniiLuvsBTR, Mojo2011, HappinessComesThroughMusic, .thing Crazyguy and CheekyBrunette****!**

**Play her out, keyboard cat.**

**Elli x**


	48. Chapter 48: Scars

...  
Scars  
...

Logan was pissed. Actually, he was more than pissed. He was infuriated at Kendall for being so stupid for running away. But he couldn't really blame him because Logan had done the same thing a hell of a lot more than once. Logan running away wasn't too uncommon to be honest. If the world became a bit too much for Logan, he shot off to a quiet or safe place for a while. Logan made his way through the crowds to make it to the Palmwoods. Logan felt his leg screaming at him, the Tubey Grip around his knee trying in vain to keep his poor leg supported as he half walked, half ran towards the flat. Logan hissed as the pain in his leg heated up from a slow simmer to a roaring flame. The sooner he got home, the sooner he got to Kendall and the big sofa. Logan almost sprinted then and there towards his home. He hadn't been there for two weeks almost. For two weeks he had been trapped in hospitals and with his father. Logan found himself in front of the Palmwoods and felt as if he had come home from the holiday from hell. He couldn't wait to see everyone again. Camille, Jo, heck, he even missed the Jennifers and Bitters! Logan pushed open the gilded door and the air conditioned air and familiar sights around Logan surrounded and comforted him. The desk that Bitters always hung around, the doors of to the pool that always, always needed clean from one of Carlos' pranks, the chairs that littered the lobby that were always littered with tired actors, singers and their parents. Logan wanted to stop and talk to everyone but Kendall needed him. So he strode over to the lift and almost careered into James on his phone coming down to the lobby which was the only place where James' phone got signal, much to his chagrin. James gaped for two seconds then put his phone away guiltily, telling Logan very clearly that James was about to phone him. Logan smiled gently and pulled James into the lift. James shook his head vigorously and hit the button for the flat's floor. Logan knew Kendall might have broken down and he needed everyone to help him back to normal. He hoped that Kendall wanted to go back to normal because Kendall wasn't in a very happy place. He had scars, not the physical scars that adorned Logan's back or the ones that shot across Carlos' knees because of all the accidents he's had. Kendall had mental scars that cut deep and killed the nerves in his mind. Kendall was scared, scarred and he hurt inside. But he wouldn't let anyone help at all. He kept it all built up so that he was the strong one. Kendall was the strong one, the one who kept it all together so he thought that he had to keep his emotions back. The lift stopped at the floor with a small jerk. Logan walked on onto the familiar hallway and spotted the very familiar door of 2J. Logan couldn't help but rush a wee bit towards his home, excited to be home after what seemed to be a lifetime. He pushed open the big door and set eyes on his friend, bundled up in blankets on the sofa cuddled beside Jo. Logan's heart leapt into his throat as he saw the pitiful state Kendall was in. Kendall was curled up into himself and he had little tear tracks streaming down his face. Logan wrapped his arms around his poor, emotionally broken friend. Kendall let his head drop onto Logan's shoulders.  
_"In your "protectiveness", you are stunning your friends' growth and doing as much harm as Mr Mitchell did."_ Kendall started as the doctor's words flooded back and he shoved Logan away lightly. Logan looked back at his big brother in confusion as Kendall shook his head and looked up at Logan with watery eyes.  
"The doctor said t-that I w-was hurting y-you...hurting y-you like your D-dad was..."  
"What? You got a douche of a doctor too? I swear they must be breeding them over there." Logan smiled back, in the hope that it might put a smile of Kendall's face. He was granted a tiny one but it disappeared quickly. Too quickly for Logan's liking. Kendall was never sad. He was always the optimist. Logan was the pessimist, always thinking the worst of the situation he and his friends managed to get themselves into. More often than not, Logan was at least partially right in his pessimistic thoughts for the future but Kendall, James and Carlos would brush thatoff with a laugh and carried on in their insanity regardless. So seeing everyone so offbeat was messing with Logan's brain. The need for normalicity to be restored was overcoming and Logan was trying everything to get back to normal.  
"Honestly, Kendall, you couldn't ever hurt me as much as _he _did. I promise that you haven't done any harm! I'm not too messed up am I? Neither is James...Carlos? That's currently debatable but still! You never did anything but help us. You protected us and kept us safe from bullies." Kendall listened and watched as Carlos and James surrounded Kendall protectively as if they could make him feel better by just sitting near him. Which it did. Kendall felt calmer and he didn't feel embarrassed about crying his heart out to his friends. He had comforted them all and now, they were helping him. He had never let them close enough to vent all of his emotions but his emotional walls had tumbled down around him and he couldn't put them back up. Well, actually, he felt no need to put them up. He no longer felt the need to hide or to push people away when he was upset. Everyone got upset every once and a while. There was a long yet comfortable silence until the door was banged off it's hinges and a brunette teenager stood at the doorway, eyes fixed on Logan's face.  
"Aw buggery hell." Logan muttered as Camille spotted him and lunged. Camille struck Logan quickly across the face and ignored Logan's yell of pain and embarrassment. Logan was slammed into the back of the couch by Camille's strong arms. He looked up at her fearfully as his friends laughed hysterically in the background. Logan shot his supposed "friends" an angry look. That made them laugh a lot louder. Camille shook Logan by the shoulders, Logan's head flying back and forth, making the poor sod very dizzy.  
"Why did NOBODY tell me you were back?"

Things were getting back to normal faster than previously thought.


	49. Epilogue: Finished

...  
Epilogue: Finished  
...

3 Months Later-

So, things went back to normal. Sort of. A lot of things changed, mostly for the better. Mr Mitchell was convicted and sent to prison for life with no chance of bail. He did plead insanity but Doctor Nadia Layman stood up and told the court the verdict of her psych report. Doctor Carter (the doctor Logan attended) was fired of his uncaring and violent attitude towards his patients. Doctor Cameron (Kendall's therapist) was assigned to the prison as a prison therapist. Logan was the only person to go back to a therapist although not the first one he visited. He met Doctor Tanner every Thursday after noon and sometimes on Saturday as well. He seemed to be improving a lot. He and Camille still haven't gotten together for some reason but it's still only a matter of time quite frankly. It's obvious that Logan liked Camille and it was painfully obvious that Camille adored Logan. Still. They get along great and Camille is hardly ever slapping him now. It's a start anyway. So all in all, Logan is improving. Carlos finally plucked up the courage to ask Stephanie out...well, she said now the first two times but 3 seems to be Carlos' lucky number. James is still a Casanova and has a new girlfriend every three days but he's slowly getting better at commitment. I think... And Katie is still Katie. Brings home new scheme material every week. So far I've had to deal with live lobsters, tee shirts, chocolates (actually getting rid of those was very easy. The boys fell on them like vultures. Explains where my Milk Tray went anyway) and exotic lamps. Don't ask. Then there's Kendall. He's getting better too. He isn't bottling up his emotions anymore and doesn't push people away either. He and Jo are still the same; dysfunctional as hell but it works in some strange way. It's obvious they love each other but they are just two very hectic individuals. Gustavo and Kelly are still Gustavo and Kelly except I think the boys have started to melt Gustavo's heart a bit. He doesn't know it, neither to the boys but I see it. I see how he asks them if they're OK after a very punishing routine, when his eyes soften a wee bit when they joke before he hides it by shouting at them, how he worries when one of them is hurt. But he's still the super grouchy Gustavo and he wouldn't let you forget that! And me? Well, I'm still the den mother, looking after my brood of insane boys and my mischievous baby girl. I still don't know their secrets or what they think about me. But they do tell me when something is wrong which is a definite improvement. Quite frankly, moving to LA was one of the craziest and most insane thing we have ever done and sometimes, the insanity is just unbelievable. And, quite honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way.

...

**Well, you've followed it to the end and here it is. You've found out all the secrets and now I am at the end of my tale. Thank you all for reading and I couldn't do it without you all. Siriusly. Now the last thing from me...did you know that SIG FRIDGING HANSEN FROM DEADLIEST CATCH IS IN CARS 2? I didn't! Why did no one tell me this? Oh well.**

**Anyway, look after yourselves and goodnight all of you.**

**Elli x**


End file.
